Young Jedi I: Beginner's Luck
by CC-645
Summary: The Force has had it with those Sith, and interventions are called for in the forms of two reluctant Earthlings. Under the tutelage of Adi Gallia, one takes on the role of mastermind, while his sidekick awaits the time for mayhem to be unleashed. Chapter 13: After humming tunes and ignoring jabber, Nik's stomech plummets, Malak's Law is discovered, and Hoth; we've got a problem.
1. Chapter 1

**Never thought I'd do this, but as I said on my profile "Always in Motion is my imagination, and many possible stories there are..." This is a Star Wars/Earth story, concerning my OC Nikitikin, written in his perspective and disasterously AU.**

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**Young Jedi  
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**Book I: Beginner's Luck  
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**Chapter 1: Not-so-Jedi**

I stood on a concrete balcony, leaning heavily on the insubstantial railing that didn't even fully encompass the edge. The cord from my earpiece headset curved behind my right ear and fell across my chest, almost as if it were a Padawan braid. In fact, one of my friends even joked that had it matched my hair colour I might've looked like an undercover Jedi. I wish I was. And for all my imagination, I was one.

My white mobility cane was folded into its compact form, hanging off a clip on my belt, almost like a lightsaber. Again I wished it was something it weren't, for if so, my situation would've been different.

"Sithspit!" I cursed under my breath. Yes, over the last year I managed to supplement my vocabulary of Earth's swear words with those from the Star Wars Universe.

"Wipe them o u t all of them…." droned the monotonous voice of my Victor Reader Stream's text-to-speech module. And indeed I wish I could. Gazing over the football field in front of me I envisioned clone LAAT/i gunships coming in for landing and opening their bay doors. I imagined white armoured figures jumping down, DC15 rifles spitting blue plasma bolts across the field. I imagined two Jedi, hopefully Master Kenobi with his former Padawan wreaking havoc across my high school's grounds. The more-or-less logical part of my mind told me that Obi-wan, the serene, no-anger guy that he was wouldn't help me here, but another part said, that Anakin would.

"Hey Cyclopes, over here!" the voice was sudden and annoying, but it wasn't enough to make me betray any outward signs that I registered it.

"_Cyclopes!_ _Pfumph!" _True I was half blind, but I had two eyes not my fault that one couldn't see.

"I'm talking to you!" the voice came closer and my hand settled unconsciously on my cane's grip.

"Six, five, four more steps…" I would've let the kid approach me a little more before whirling on him, but the thump of an eraser against the back of my head brought my reaction much sooner than planned.

Immediately I whipped my cane off the clip, yanking the elastic and releasing the four aluminium segments which snapped into a 54 inch stick mid swing. I had finished my turn to see the antagonist cringe away from the blow.

This was the second time I lost my temper and resorted to physical countermeasures, though this wasn't the first time – nor the hundredth – when I had people through projectiles at my head because they underestimated my skills of deduction. Which – though far from rivalling Sherlock Holm's – were considerable.

"Ah! I'm being attacked by a crazy madman!" the kid screamed cowering away from me.

For a moment words failed me, but when I got my tongue back I mixed everything in,

"You *smack* blasted *smack* son *smack* of … a *smack* bloody sith!"

I judged that I had delivered a suitable lesson for this time, after all I didn't want to seriously hurt that guy – correction: I wanted to put him into a Geonosian containment field and torture him with sith lightning for a year nonstop – but it wouldn't do me any good at the moment. So giving him a final smack with my cane I hissed in his ear, "No more of this **kid**. I'm warning you!"

Sometimes my _wonderful_ – yeah right the blasted piece of sithspawn that he is – principle makes me want to turn to the Dark Side. In fact, I'm sure that if Anakin and I had a race, 'who'd turn first?' I would win by a landslide.

And so it was, as I was sitting in the lobby to _Jerkjerrod's_ office, I did not delude myself with useless thoughts of the situation being resolved fairly. In my high school it was simple, the first person to snitch and cry was automatically the victim and the right party.

Speaking of the _Moff_, he opened the Office door and scowled at me. Or at least that was what I deduced from the tone of his voice.

"You!" he stabbed a finger in my face, "Get in!"

I did not grace him with a response. _Imperial scum don't deserve one _I thought to myself. True he wasn't really an imperial, nor a Moff, but pretending he was helped me deal with my anger towards him.

I stepped into his office, and barely suppressed an enraged bellow. There, three figures sat. One was the one I beat up, one was comforting him, and another sat crying, with bruises all over his face. I didn't know where the third person got his _evidence_, whether fake or real, but it certainly wasn't my work.

"Explain this!" The principle growled at me.

"Why should I?" I snapped at him, "Why should I bother? It won't make a difference either way will it? No it won't, as that's how this school deals with these situations." My voice dropped dangerously, "And _you_ are teaching us about corruption, what will we learn from the likes of you? Well, here's the answer, quite the opposite to the curriculum. Unless," I raised my finger and let a my next words sound as if I made a scientific breakthrough, "Unless the curriculum is teaching us how to become jerks and criminals!" Indeed I often wondered if what I just said was the truth.

Gasps of astonishment met my proclamation. No one had ever talked to the principle in such a manner.

"H-how d-dare y-you!" stuttered the jerk, his hands shaking in fury.

"I dare," I sent a glare at him so intense that he actually cowed back, "I dare, because I am probably the only person in this school that isn't either blind or a bastard!" I looked pointedly at the group of students sitting on the chairs in the office, "Now do me the courtesy of expelling me, at least then I will have an excuse to never come back to this Hutt Bowl ever again." I swept my outer coat over my shoulder and stormed out of the room.

I stormed down the main staircase of the Administrative building, the scowl on my face sending even hardened vice-principles scurrying out of my way. I kicked open a side door and headed down a narrow alleyway towards a place where I could climb the fence and get the hell out of that rotten rat hole. However ten meters down I found my way blocked my three thugs, each holding a steel baseball bat.

"Ah, the Negosiator," sneered the group's leader, "Wanna negosiate with us?"

Common sense might've told me to turn around and run. My survival instincts may have told me to turn around and run. My temper said otherwise. I grinned at my would-be attackers and lifted my cane up into the Soresu stance.

Expectedly the leader jeered at me, "Oh look, little Jedi's got a lightsaber!" and for all intents and purposes I was just a star wars geek who completely lost it. Whoever what none of them realised was that I knew every cubic centimetre of the school grounds as if they were the backs of my hands.

I rushed at the group, left palm still extended, right arm still up holding the cane horizontally. The muggers lifted their bats in preparation to hit me, but they never had the chance. As I was almost in range of their weapons my hand gripped a stormwater drain. Jamming my cane into the ground for momentum and using the pipe as a pivot point I swung up and dropped behind the three heavies.

Instantly I slammed my cane into the back of one of the thugs driving him to the ground. I drew it back for another swing but the leader, who I recognised as Phil the Filthy, grabbed its tip with one hand and tried to bring his bat down on my head with the other. I didn't give him the opportunity to do so though. I grabbed my cane with my other hand and yanked it apart at the middle, then I folded the lower half up against Phil's fingers and squeezed.

Oh the shriek of pain that he emitted, it was glorious. But I couldn't wallow in my victory yet, there was the other uninjured thug. As it turned out I need not have worried about him. For before he even had the chance to attack me, a brown-robed figure walked up behind him and brought a silver cylinder crashing into the back of his head.

"Well, hello there. I see you managed to negotiate your way into trouble once again huh?" Only one person who I knew would wear replica Jedi robes. Only one person would joke about my nickname as the negotiator. The figure was my best friend, Aeren Halcyon.

"Don know bout you, but I feel like gettin out ov here." Aeren prompted me, slipping the model lightsaber hilt back on his belt.

The journey back to my place only took half an hour for us as we took a taxi instead of my two usual busses. On the way home my friend questioned me as to the happenings of the day and I obliged.

"I'm telling you Halcyon, they are absolutely insane there!" I stated.

"Can't elp but agree," he replied, "beatin up one o der own doesn't sound right at all."

I nodded, "I'm about this angry with them that just give me an AT-ST and I'll prove it…"

"Oh stop grouching! You're definitely a Kenobi!"

I playfully punched Aeren in the shoulder and retorted, "Na, hair's wrong!"

The cab stopped outside the front gate to my domain and after paying for the trip me and my friend headed off towards the practice field.

The sounds of metal on metal and the occasional grunt of pain carried clearly over the evening air as Aeren and I went at each other with stunt sabers. In my hands I held a saberstaff hilt with two metal poles extending from each end. My opponent was armed with a regular saber, hilt firmly held in both hands.

"Remember," I reminded my friend panting, "You are supposed to miss me, overbalance and roll down after me." Halcyon nodded, but I wasn't convinced. Our last rehearsal ended up with me having a sizable bruise on my shoulder when he actually got me instead of following the script.

We stood on the side of a hill, in a rather precarious position trading blows and parries, while trying not to fall prematurely. One misstep and one of us could get injured, and to add to the tension, this was our last practice session, tomorrow we would be filming.

"This ends once and for all," I hissed the cue line.

"You're right master, this ends, for you!" as soon as Aeren said the last word our hands flew up for a simultaneous force-push just like in Revenge of the Sith. The plan was to hold if for five seconds and then I'd fall back and roll down the hill, the camera would follow me, thus allowing Halcyon to retreat some distance as if he too were flung back.

Great was our surprise when a white glow began to surround our outstretched palms.

"What the!" Aeren screamed at me. But I couldn't really help him. I was as bewildered as he was.

Finally I yelled, "RELEASE!" but he looked at me uncomprehendingly. "Let go of the blast!" I clarified but he still didn't get what I was talking about. Honestly I didn't either but the glow was increasing more and more, and I had this strange feeling that we were running out of time.

Then I hit upon an idea, I poured as much concentration as I could into sending a thought to Aeren, "Concentrate, imagine the glow leave your palm, release it outward." For a moment I panicked, what if he didn't get my thought, but then his eyes lit up in understanding.

"On three," He sent back to me, "One … Two … Three, GO!" at the exact same time we released the Force, or what I thought was the Force. The white glows from our hands sped towards each other and I was just beginning to think that maybe we had averted disaster when the energies struck. I expected there to be a massive shockwave that would send us flying hundreds of meters in opposite directions, what I didn't expect was the glow to start forming a swirling ball of white light that steadily grew in size and intensity.

Halcyon gave me a look, we both dropped our props and bolted away down the slope. Barely had we gone five meters however when we were suddenly lifted into the air and began moving backwards. I threw a worried look over my shoulder and gasped. The orb had reached three meters in diameter and we were no moving towards it.

Another gasp beside me told me that Aeren had noticed our predicament as well. I began frantically racking my brain for a solution to our problem but it was too late. When we were half a meter from the orb it suddenly expanded to double its size engulfed us completely.

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**And that's my attempt at a cliffhanger.**


	2. Chapter 2: Earthlings and Big Explosions

**Well, true to form I changed the title for this story, formerly "Young Jedi 01: Novice", the new title is "Young Jedi 01: Beginner's Luck"**

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**Chapter 2: Of Earthlings and Big Explosions**

I don't know what I expected to feel when I entered the orb. Maybe pain, like from Sith Lightning, I'm not sure as I never had such an encounter previously. What I felt was … I don't quite know how to describe it. I didn't know which way was up or down. Or where was left or right. I was neither hot nor cold. It was as if I lost all my senses. For a moment a panicked thought crossed my mind, _what if this is some kind of Force Stasis?_ However that line of thought was quickly quashed as I felt myself hit something hard and begin to roll over and over.

Hope flared up in my mind, maybe I just read too much stories and was imagining things? If I opened my eyes now would I see the bottom of the hill atop which Aeren and I were rehearsing? I opened my eyes to prove this theory and received the greatest shock of my life to date.

I was not in my back yard. The sky above me had a green tint, something you don't see on Earth, and in the distance I could see mountains stretching for kilometres left and right. I looked down at myself and my mouth fell open.

During our practice duel, Aeren and I were wearing replica Jedi clothes, quite good quality ones too. But what I was wearing now looked more like the real thing if you get my meaning. I felt around on my belt and found a metal cylinder attached to it. I didn't need to ask myself what it was. I stood up and hit the activation switch. Immediately a bright blue beam immerged from one of the ends. Though I was expecting something of the sort, I still dropped it in surprise. After all, I still wasn't quite sure what happened to me. Now I knew. As cliché as it might sound, I was in a Galaxy far, far away from the Milky Way.

"Hey, could you look where you drop your saberstaff next time?" called a familiar grouchy voice. I looked to the side, and there, five meters away sat Aeren, wearing the same robes as me, but where mine were in tans and browns, his were in various shades of green.

_Not Surprising…_ I remarked to myself, _after all, Halcyons are Corellian here._

"Keep your mind on the present moment. Hopefully then you won't lose your head!" I retorted and we both laughed at one of my oldest jokes.

"So where do you suppose we are?" Halcyon asked me,

"Dunno I could name a number of planets with a green sky. What I see here doesn't help up much. I suggest we find a settlement, or preferably a spaceport."

Aeren stood up and handed me my lightsaber. After closer look I found that it was indeed a saberstaff, or more precisely a pair of joined sabers.

I was about to thank my friend nut he held up a hand for me to be quite.

"Yeah I know, no worries man." he whispered. "Now be quiet, I thought I heard something."

We both listened for a minute and then I broke the silence, "Blaster fire. Sounds like hand guns. And there is something else."

"No kidding," my friend huffed pointing a finger into the distance, "Two Jedi, it looks like they're in trouble." I looked to where he was pointing but I couldn't see anything from this far away.

I said as much, and then added, "I think that I want a closer look. Maybe we can get off world with those two."

Aeren stared at me in an 'are you crazy?' manner. I don't quite know how I knew that, maybe I sensed it or something. "Are you serious? Getting in the middle of a blaster fight! And on an unknown planet to boot! Besides we are no Jedi no matter how much we practice for fan films!"

I had to admit, my friend had a valid point. Just as I was about to say so, and propose a different course of action, I heard a strangely familiar voice in my head.

"Fear not young Jedi, the Force will guide you. Go, help my former apprentice. You'll know how when the time comes." Even though it sounded different in the movies, I recognised it instantly as Qui-Gon's voice. I looked over, and somehow sensed that Halcyon had heard the same thing I did.

Clipping my saber to my belt I rushed down the rest of the slope and towards the conflict five hundred meters away.

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"So brains, what's today's brilliant plan?" Had anyone but Aeren uttered that sentence I would've driven my brand-new lightsaber through their skull, as it was, I didn't mind with him. We were crouching behind a stack of ammunition – yea I know that's a bad idea in a gun fight – crates on the edge of a landing platform, twenty meters away from us, Obi-wan, and a really young Anakin were slowly backing towards a ship. The problem was that they were surrounded by a group of twenty Collicoids with half-a dozen droidekas, all firing non-stop. Normally the situation wouldn't have been any trouble for two Jedi, but they also escorting five civilians.

I looked down at the crate in front of me and grinned in satisfaction. One boring wet day I memorised the Aurebesh alphabet as I had nothing better to do. That skill now proved useful as the label on the box read: "THERMAL DETONATORS. Handle with care."

I felt around the side of my boot with my right hand were I knew Jedi usually had a utility knife or vibroblade. When my fingers brushed metal I drew it out and began to cut away that the crate's seals.

I took of the lid and grabbed a det. Tossing it in the air casually I told Aeren my plan.

"Have you lost your mind?" he berated me, "If those guys find that we are throwing dets at them we'll be ancient history!"

"That's why we won't be throwing them from behind the crates," I repeated patiently, "We grab six dets each and activate the remaining charges. We'll move to a position behind the destroyer droids and throw them. Once we're clear, I hit the plunger. When this box goes boom, the blast will set of the adjacent explosives creating a big distraction. Hopefully this will distract the Collicoids, this and the loss of their droidekas. Better now?"

Halcyon nodded, "That sounds much better when you put it like that." I smiled. Of the two of us I always was the more daring and reckless while Aeren preferred stealth and sneakiness. That's what made us such a good team, whether back home or here, or at least I hoped so.

"Are we doing it?" I queried. He nodded in the affirmative and picked up his charges. I followed suit, shoving half-a-dozen military-grade thermal dets into my robe sleave. Picking up the plunger I closed up the crate and slide off the platform.

* * *

"Ready for some big-bad-boom?" I grinned evilly, fingering the detonation switch. So far the plan worked without a hitch. No-one noticed us creeping around and all of Obi-wan's party were still in one piece.

"Hold on a few seconds. I want to make sure that they are clear of the blast radius." I waited for Aeren to give me the signal, "…aaaand now!" My thumb jammed down on the red trigger, there was a momentary pause and then everything exploded.

"That *cough* was awesome!" exclaimed Halcyon after the dust settled. The charges that we planted near the droidekas went off first, weakening their shields in time for the blast wave from the former stack of ammunition crates to tear them apart. Half of the Collicoids were caught in the explosion, and the rest were picking themselves up off the permacrete platform as Aeren and I activated our sabers and charged at them.

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In short, it was no contest. Dispirited by the loss of half their squad and the arrival of two more Jedi the Collicoids dropped their weapons and retreated as fast as they could. We didn't pursue. There was no need. And even if there was, I would've gone. It was a wonder to me that I didn't cut any of my body parts off while running with an activated, double-ended lightsaber.

When the Jedi were assured that everyone was alright and that there were no enemies nearby we were approached my Obi-wan Kenobi.

"What are your names Padawans, and what is your mission here?" Obi-wan's voice was calm as it always appeared in the movies, but I heard a note of curiosity in it – a note that by all standards of Jedi Masters wasn't supposed to be there. Maybe Obi-wan wasn't as non-expressive as Star Wars multimedia made him out to be.

"Padawan Nik Sunrider," I blatantly lied, well not really, I just used a surname of an ancient Jedi Master that's all, no big deal. "And this is a friend of mine," I waved a hand at Aeren, "Padawan Aeren Halcyon, of the Corellian Enclave. We don't have a mission here really," Obi-wan raised an eyebrow at me.

"We had to make an emergency hyperjump in an effort to evade a group of pirates, we hit the gravity well and that disabled our ship." Put it Aeren, I sometimes admire his ability to come up with plausible scenarios under practically any circumstances," We ejected in the escape pod, but we were shot down from orbit and had to free fall after we passed the cloud layer."

"I see," Obi-wan nodded his head, "would you like a lift Padawans?"

"Thank you Master Kenobi." I accepted his offer formally with a bow. I didn't notice that I made a crucial mistake until he asked me,

"Nik, I don't remember you from Coruscant, how do you know me?"

_Oh great!"_ I scolded myself, _you just had to blow your cover!_ The look that Aeren shot me said as much.

"It's a long story Master Kenobi, I will tell you but in private." He looked at me for a minute and then nodded curtly,

"Fine, I'll come and get you when we enter hyperspace," his voice dropped to a mutter, "…and I get rid of Anakin," I worked really hard to supress my smile, but my efforts were for naught as Obi-wan scowled at me in exasperation, "not funny!" he turned around and let us on board the ship.

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**Loyal readers, and whoever else reads this :D, please let me know, how am I doing with this story. There are stories out there that are for a lack of a better word quite pethatic. I would like to know, if this story is among those pethatic ones or if I am managing to write an enjoyable Earth/SW fic, thanks - CC-645**


	3. Chapter 3: It Begins - Kind of

**Oh dear, oh dear, it appears that I haven't updated _any_ of my stories in a long time ... a long time.**

**After returning from the Polis Messa Medical Facility, (Kaliida Shaols was far too imperial for my taste) I discovered that the Force was still with me, but if I didn't write something soon, disaster would strike, (at my stats page at least). I got back to writing as soon as I could, and here I have the longest chapter in my entire life, over 5500 words in the actual chapter! I can not vouch for the regularity of any future updates for the tme being but, I asure you that I have not forgotten Skyfighter: The Ones and my resolve is stronger than ever! The remaining plots will be hunted down and posted! Enough with the Palpatine theatrics, I'm just so glad to be back!**

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Chapter 3 – Mistrust, Mistakes, Misdirection and a partial beginning

From the outside, the Jedi's ship appeared to me to be a Personal Luxury Yacht-200, however when we boarded, I quickly realized that most of the fancy trappings were removed in favour of a more practical layout. Obi-wan pointed us in the direction of our quarters with a distracted nod, as he headed toward the flight deck.

As soon as the door hissed shut behind us, Aeren rounded on me,

"What in the nine proverbial Sith heals do you think you are doing? Did you realize that we are on a ship with a thirteen-year-old Darth Vader? And if you haven't noticed, we are heading towards an arrogant, stuck-up and self-flattering bunch of Nerf-Herders who call themselves a Jedi Council!"

By the time my friend's outburst subsided, I could not withhold my own laughter.

"Wow, calm down, 'a Jedi is always calm' remember?" I managed to say between un-Jedi like giggles. He had a point though, having seen _RotS_ was not in itself a guarantee for our success in preventing Vader and Sidious from rising to power, if indeed that was what we wanted to do. As if reading my thoughts – which he just might have been, as I wasn't shielding – Halcyon asked me worriedly,

"We are going to stop old wrinkle-face, aren't we?" And indeed it was a good question. For all the stuff the Movies made him out to be, Palpatine could just be a lonely Chancellor serving the Galaxy – not that I believed that for a second, but still…. And in any case I always wanted to command a Star Destroyer. Even if I didn't want Alderaan to get vaporized, or the youngest Solo to die above Myrkr some quarter of a century later, I sure wasn't gonna embark on some 'Dumb-Fool idealistic crusade' as Han might've put it. My musings were interrupted by the shrill tones of the cabin's intercom signalling an incoming message. I dropped my hand from the vague beginnings of a beard – Kenobi I **hate** you for infecting me with that habit of yours – and walked over to the wall-mounted repeater displays and control panels.

"Hey you back there," came the kiddy voice from the speaker as soon as I accepted the communication, "we're more likely to reach home in one piece if you get on the quad laser!" I just had to grin, Anakin was his innocent boyish self, well not really but who cares about Krayn or the Blood-Carver.

I looked at Aeren with a questioning gaze, "I never was good on the _Falcon Gunner _games, but I don't feel like getting vaped by some Trade Fed hotshots…" He understood my query and after a moment of indecision nodded and slapped the door release.

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As it turned out, the refitted yacht had a dedicated fire-control centre located off the starboard corridor just behind the bridge – which, incidentally, was extremely lucky for us. On our way to make fools of ourselves in front of the Jedi and ask for directions, we noticed a door marked "GUNNERY OPS". The Force must have been with us, as I don't quite know how I would've explained my ignorance of standard ship layout at this point in time.

The room had several repeater displays mounted on the walls and four duty stations formed a semicircle around a large tactical hologram which was projected into the space left by them. Giving the consoles a cursory glance, my better-sighted companion waved a hand to one of the chairs.

"That's the CO's station, the one we don't need. Pick any other one and you should be fine." he turned, and following his own advice, walked in a different direction.

* * *

The controls were simple, a 40 by 50 centimetre touch screen, a joystick and an intercom headset. Donning the latter, I called the cockpit.

"Master Kenobi, this is Padawan Sunrider in Weapons Control, what are the access codes to this thing?" it was Anakin who answered me,

"Walker to Rider, code is—" before he could give it to me, another – exasperated – voice cut in, "A-na-kin! Your flying is bad enough as it is! Let me look up the blasteeeeeed c-c-oooodes! Phewf! Fly strait it's hard to rea…" At that moment I zoned off. Attempting to cast my awareness out to read Aeren's mood, I wasn't too surprised to feel a great deal of amusement. Before I could get lost in the contemplation of my new-found Force abilities – more like inabilities – the headset chirped, and Obi-Wan came on again.

"Padawans, the Gunnery code is: Jenth, Esk, Dorn, Isk, zero, Besh, one." Trying to supress my giggles I clicked my mic twice in the galactic standard comm code for 'acknowledged' and punched in the words "JEDI 0B1", all the while snorting at the antics of the not-yet famous Kenobi and Skywalker duo, _be'tchya that's Kenny's doing…._

The ship shook, jolting me out of my reverie. I guess our assailants got into firing range and started pummelling our stern deflectors. This wasn't good. Sure Anakin was a great pilot, but this was a one-hundred-plus meter yacht, no matter how modified, not a nimble interceptor. This meant that we had to hold off the pursuing spacecraft long enough to clear the planet's gravity well and jump into hyperspace. There was only one problem with that – or only one that I was aware of – mainly the fact that I lost in each and every space shooter game back home. Trench Run, Falcon Gunnery, you name it, I've played it, and failed it. If I couldn't rely on my vision, and I didn't have _any_, let alone enough, training to use the Force to shoot accurately, well I really wasn't sure what I'd do. According to Master Yoda, my options where: _**do**_; _**do not**_; and to make things worse, there was no _**try**_**.**

Two minutes into the fight it was beginning to look like '_**do not**_' was my path of choice. As I jammed my thumb down on the trigger, I checked my display, once again I missed. The blip representing a Trade Federation Vulture droid starfighter performed a ridiculously simple evasive manoeuvre and dodged away from the stream of lasers which I was pouring in its vague direction.

"Osik!" I cursed for the tenth time, I really wasn't kidding when I said I was a terrible gunner, suddenly the possibility of getting vaporised didn't seem so remote.

"Hey! Cut the gloom and use the boom! Keep on blastin' you're bound to hit something eventually!" Aeren's encouragement was just what I needed. I couldn't outshoot a starfighter with my reaction time as it was, but I could outsmart a droid-brain, any day – hopefully.

Tossing a brief "Aeren, you're a genius!" over my shoulder, and ignoring his bewildered queries, I began frantically typing commands into my console.

As the Vulture Droids came about for another pass, this time along our starboard flank, I dropped the targeting brackets on a fighter just behind the leader. I didn't shoot, I would've probably missed anyway, but the Droid Brain didn't have to know that. As I predicted, my target jerked to the side, and directly into the preprogramed sights of a secondary laser cannon.

"Great shot!" My left ear temporarily went deaf from the sheer volume of Anakin's exuberant congratulatory whoop. "The shrapnel from the last one took out the leader! That's why you _always_ keep your distance while going in for a strafing run at a larger ship with active weapons." I nearly laughed out loud, but then I remembered that Jedi were supposed to be calmer and more collected than that. Instead I simply tapped in a request for the tactical display to show the positions of the remaining fighters, there were only two of them left.

Aeren's pair of laser cannons tracked one of the fighters as it tried to come about for another run and hee would have gotten the craft were it not for Anakin choosing that exact moment to perform a drop-roll to avoid the other Vulture's missile. If our pilot had rolled port instead of starboard, the missile would've missed us, but we didn't, and the warhead clipped my friend's primary gun emplacement.

"Oh this is shabla perfect!" Aeren slapped his console, "Nik, you'll have to take over primary lasers!"

I nodded, all the while trying to supress my delight. Aeren was always more knowledgeable about the more technical and scientific aspects of Star Wars while I was better at history, names and unique terminology. It took me half a year to get my friend to learn Mando'a curses.

I dialled down the power on both my cannons, true if I managed to hit the fighters my shots wouldn't get past the shields, but it would maximise the amount of rounds I could fire. I targeted a starfighter and began a herding volley. I've read about this technique in some book or another, or maybe I invented it in a daydream, no matter, it worked. The limited droid intelligence recognised that several shots were being fired at it, predictably it accelerated and changed vector by twenty degrees – right into the path of a barrage of mid-strength lasers from Aeren's secondary weapon.

Halcyon's fire penetrated the Vulture's shields and clipped off the top starboard wing. The sudden imbalance in thrust output caused the droid to veer to the right and collide with its counterpart. Just as the fireball expanded I felt the deck lurch in a different way, and I knew we were safely in hyperspace.

* * *

As Aeren and I powered down our weapons and terminals Master Kenobi – gotta remember he's still a knight – strolled past the open doors. Ducking his head in, he told us in an unnecessarily gruff voice to go to our quarters and await him there. With a polite bow I distractedly mumbled something along the lines of, "Understood Master Kenobi..." and lead the way back to our room.

As soon as the door hissed shut behind us Halcyon lost all semblance of calm.

"Fierfek! He can't be onto us so quickly! Have you any idea how we are going to explain all this?" he shook his lightsaber in my face for emphasis.

Before he could rant any more, I told him to shut up, confirm my story, and attempt to raise up mental shields – or more precisely, whatever felt like mental shields. With no training in the ways of the Force we could not hope to withstand even a Padawan's scrutiny, but I wasn't getting blamed for not giving it my best shot.

I managed to assemble my face into what I hoped was a neutral Jedi façade – I could never tell, I couldn't quite see the details of my reflection in a mirror – and folded my arms into opposing cloak sleeves just as there was a knock on our door.

"Come in!" I invited in false cheerfulness. The panel slid open to reveal Obi-Wan Kenobi standing there, what I could see of his appearance suggesting that he meant business and that stalling wouldn't work here. "Master Kenobi, come inside, take a seat. This conversation is likely to last a lengthy period of time." The Jedi walked in and sat down on one of the sleep couches. Deciding to test a conversation tactic I've read about I inquired, "Master Kenobi, I presume you are here to discuss my friend and I. But tell me, shouldn't your Padawan be present for this discussion? I understand that he is the only other ranking Jedi aboard this vessel?" The technique I planned to use was meant to allow me to control the conversation, and to appear cooperative while at the same time giving me an outward illusion of being in control. It was bound to fail on Kenobi, he earned his title as the "Negotiator" for a reason.

"I did, and no, Anakin needs to monitor the ship. However I would greatly appreciate if you could tell me who you are, why you are impersonating Jedi and how you got functioning lightsabers?"

"Well Master Kenobi, I can answer those questions, but I've got two of my own first. After I get those answers I will endeavour to tell you all I can and all I know." Master Kenobi nodded agreeably if a tad-bit curiously and so I proceeded. "Master Kenobi, what is the current year, I assume it is somewhere around the 970th year post the Ruusan Reformation?"

Obi-Wan looked at me like I'd grown three montrals and turned pink, but he answered nonetheless, "It is the year 7rS if that's what you mean?"

I nodded, "As I expected, 972aRR or 28BBY. And my second question, has Padawan Skywalker already been to Zonama Sekot?"

That got a reaction out of Kenobi alright, he jerked up and almost fell off his perch, "H-how did you know about that? It was supposed to be a secret Jedi mission. And what does this have to do with you?" I noticed that his hand was hovering near his lightsaber, _not good._

"Have you ever heard of the Order of the Whills?" that one got me two reactions, both of shock. Aeren quickly covered his up by hissing in my ear,

"How can you tell him that? The Jedi'll find out!" I hushed my friend in what I hoped was a concerned manner and made a mental note to either berate him for his slip of composure or to congratulate him on an effective save.

Kenobi didn't seem to read through the deception and in fact, contrary to my expectations, he answered earnestly, "The Jedi have long told myths of the ancient Whills and their journal, but to this day, there was no substantial proof."

"Oh I assure you, they do exist – or at least they did exist. Among various works of fiction back home, there is a series of books, films and other material called the Star Wars Franchise. Until the day before yesterday I would've believed those items to be like any other – products of someone's imagination – but I changed my mind after finding myself on a planet with a green sky and holding a lightsaber – something that only existed in those _trivial _stories." I believe I did quite well, only thing was to see if Obi-Wan bought it.

Oh well, I guess he didn't. "Preposterous! The Journal of the Whills was an invaluable artefact! No-one would just leave it to me turned into a mere entertainment project. And that still doesn't answer why you are impersonating Jedi and where you come from!"

"Okay then, I'll give you proof. I know the original Jedi code, I know the Sith Code," woops, wrong thing to say, "I know the current Code. I know that Knight Tachi was on a secret undercover mission to gather evidence against Krayn. I know that you fought a Sith Apprentice on Naboo four years ago by the name of Darth Maul. By the way, next time you go up against him, bisect him vertically, hopefully you'll kill him then."

"What! Did you say Maul was alive? Who do you know that?"

"Master Kenobi," I sighed theatrically, "Those stories deal with the future, not just the past. How would you like to know that there will be a galactic war in six years' time? Or that you'll sit on the High Council in seven?"

Obi-Wan's jaw fell open, and who can blame the man, especially when the Jedi are so dead-set on avoiding all knowledge of the future? It was a shock for him, just as I wanted, or maybe not as he couldn't stop stuttering for a sentence or two. "I-I-I s-sit o-on th-the C-Council? The-re wi-ill be a war?" he managed to compose himself, "I must bring you before the Council. They must here of this. And will you tell me, why you are wearing Jedi robes and carrying lightsabers?"

Finally, I got what I wanted, an audience with the Council. Though, seeing how they were so stagnant and arrogant, I wasn't sure what I could accomplish. "Oh that's a long story Master Kenobi. First let me explain that our civilisation has just discovered space travel. So far no manned ships have gone further than our moon or orbital space station. So, naturally people like to fantasise about space, and aliens, and galactic adventures, and so on. My friend and I were rather interested in Star Wars you see. So when we got hold of a camera and some props, we wanted to film a home-made movie. While rehearsing with sticks – we don't have lightsabers on Earth – we were acting out a simultaneous Force-push scene as a tribute to something we see you do in the future. We were going to pretend to push each other away, jump back, and then edit the footage to make it look like we actually flew back. Great was our surprise when an orb began to grow between our palms…."

Obi-Wan managed to control his astonishment and withhold any undignified response. I paused to get my breath back and Aeren took over the conversation. "We had no idea as to what it might be, nor did we know how to stop it. We chose to run as far away as possible fearing a shockwave. Before we could get far though, it began drawing us in. It was about twice my height last I remember. I don't know how long we spent in the orb, nor do I know what _exactly _occurred but I remember tumbling down a hill. When I came to a rest, I noticed that Nik was lying in a similar position about five meters above me. He climbed to his feet and looked rather bewildered. I don't blame him, we don't get green skies on Earth. He was also in some confusion as to what he was wearing, when I looked at myself I discovered why. We were wearing costumes back while rehearsing, but these clothes are of a much higher quality." My friend looked over at Obi-Wan to see if he was following, and apparently the Jedi was. "When Nik realised what was on his belt he was rather shocked. Our props had meter long aluminium sticks and stylised lightsaber handles, they however could not be separated. Nik drew his saberstaff like he would in a practice shoot and activated one end. You see, the films showed how to do certain things, that's how I was able to shoot back during the battle. Well, when the lightsaber emitted a blade, my friend was so shocked that he actually dropped it. That pretty much sold it for us, we were no longer on Earth."

Giving my friend a grateful nod I took over once again, "My friend spotted your little fight with the Droidekas and Collicoids." Kenobi gave a start at this, "We decided to help out in hopes of getting a ride off that planet. But then those vulture droids decided to drop in. It took us five minutes to find the gunnery centre in the first place!" I gave a nervous laugh, "And when we found the shabla room, I couldn't hit the most primitive fighters in the galaxy as of this day and age! The matter was that I have a vision impairment and thus have large limitations as to what I could do, and I was never trained in the ways of the Force. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I had the Force before this incident." I cupped my chin in thought and stared out the viewport at the blue skies of hyperspace in deep contemplation.

As I was looking away, I didn't see the amused smirk that Obi-Wan shot at me as I unconsciously copied one of his famous gestures.

"How are you so sure that you are Force Sensitive?"

The question took me of guard, wasn't Obi-Wan supposed to feel my presence or something? Or maybe he just didn't trust his feelings? Or, more likely than not, the Jedi Order – like so many other organisations both here and at home – was a giant quagmire of bureaucracy. Well, I thought I'd give him my answer anyway. I unclipped my saberstaff and tossed it on the sleep couch beside Kenobi. Now this part was going to be tricky, closing my eyes I visualised the lightsaber float up a few centimetres and move to the right, I attempted to remember those raspy words of a green-eared troll that I'd heard so many times. "…Size matters not… …My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is…" Unbidden, a few lines of the _Old Code_ popped into mind, _"Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge…. Chaos, yet harmony…"_ I didn't realise that I was actually whispering aloud, nor did I realise that at some point in time, my hand raised itself up and gestured. And I certainly didn't realise that my weapon was floating a decimetre above, and thrice that to the side of its point of origin. Or at least I didn't realise it until Aeren decided to give an exultant whoop. My concentration broken, the saber fell out of my mental grip and tumbled end over end onto the deck. "Control! Control! You must learn control!" I reprimanded myself in a mild Yoda imitation.

Obi-Wan stared at me dumbstruck for a few seconds, then he blinked a few times and burst into laughter. "Don't tell me that _that green imp_ haunts even other galaxies?"

I laughed too, "I guess so!" then I grew more serious, "But Master Kenobi, what is going to happen next, I mean with the High Council? I mean, how much trouble are we in?"

"Good question, ah Padawan Sunrider," Kenobi seemed rather unsure how to address us, I guess there were no protocols for that in the _Jedi Diplomacy And Negotiation Manual for Ambassadors, version 113-8. _"You must be taken to the Council who will decide where to assign you as you are not of legal age according to Galactic Republic law."

"Where to assign us? You mean the Agri-Corp? Man I know why the Jedi Order got wiped out. I'm so not blaming Vader…." That got Obi-Wan all cranky and riled up.

"The Jedi Order gets wiped out! But that's impossible! Master Yoda hasn't foreseen anything to that affect!" Seriously, I'm so feeling sorry for Obi-Wan about now. It must have been horrifying to see the image of the all-mighty Council being shattered like a pane of mere glass right before his eyes. Evidently he sensed at least some of my feelings. "You pity me, why? Even if there is such a future – which is in grave doubt, for how could the demise of all that is Light be the will of the Force? If there is such a future, the Jedi Order has many talented Knights and Masters Indeed many are some of the most powerful Jedi in history. Master Windu for example, or Master Yoda, or even my own apprentice, if I can be so presumptuous. How?"

I buried my face in my hands and gave off such an aura of dejection that even Kenobi faltered. "Obi-Wan," I moaned with a deep sigh, "That's the very reason the Jedi Order fell. Because of their arrogance! They had the Sith Lords under their noses, but still Master Mundi thought that Count Dooku was a harmless political idealist not some bloke called Darth Tyranus until Anakin lost a forearm to his blade!" I forestalled any exclamation of dismay on Kenobi's part by gabbing a finger in his chest. "And you know what, you aren't the perfect Jedi you thought you were. Why? I'll tell you why! Because you've already broken one of the most central tenants of the Jedi Code! You are waaay too attached to your shabla Code and to the misguided notion that the blasted Council is always right! You've fallen so far as to blame yourself for everything that goes on in the universe! Fierfek, you'd probably blame yourself if it rained on Tatooine, obstinately certain that it was against the Will of the Force as, if it wasn't, the dust-ball would not be a desert in the first place – never mind the ancient Rakata that bombed the poodoo out of it so long before Yoda's time that even I can't remember the date! And what's more, you're a hypocrite! Whenever Anakin does something that is slightly non-Jedi, you lecture him until he manages to play five mental games of dejarick. Even – or especially – if you did that same thing yourself! You lecture him for being reckless, well look at your self! Unless you want to see your world crumble down before your own eyes. Unless you want to spend nineteen years in exile, worrying about your imaginary faults and remain blind to your real ones. Unless you want all that, you will: grow a backbone, grow some attitude and rebelliousness, some common sense and free will, and above all, you will find the people you care about, and you are going to tell them so. You are going to raise Anakin like Qui-Gon raised you, only you will actually tell him how much he means to you. Do you understand what I just said, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" He nodded wordlessly. "Now go!" I ordered, igniting one of my saberstaff's blades and pointing it in his face, "Go and meditate on what I've said, or just think about it. Don't come out of your quarters for forty-eight hours or until summoned. Go!"

Somehow my voice acquired an unmistakable edge of authority, and it was either that or the saber in his face that made him bow and back hurriedly out. When the door slid shut my upright posture faded, my weapon shut off and clattered to the deck. I slumped down on the now-vacated sleep couch and groaned. Aeren looked at me in utter astonishment. "Is it just me or did you just give the Negotiator a lecture worthy of Master Vrook and ordered him to 'go home and rethink his life' just with a lightsaber instead of a mind trick?"

"Yeah, pretty much. What?" I quipped when I felt his dismay at my casual answer. "It was the infamous Will of the Force, what did you want me to do? He needed it though. And unless I'm much mistaken I've just guaranteed that he'll come back to us, not to mention a meeting with the Council."

"And why do we need a meeting with the Council anyway? We could just go to Nar Shadaa, sell our sabers, get some blasters and go to live somewhere where the Empire didn't get to? Like Hapes or Belkadan?"

My friend had a good point, but I had an even better answer, "Because there are about to be four galactic wars over the next seventy-or-so years. Try hiding from that. And do you want Sidious to find and train us? Sure I'd love to be a Sith Lord, buut, ya know, the training isn't exactly student-friendly." That got through to him, but he wasn't yet convinced.

"But is terrorising the very Knight that found us such a good way to get trained? How will you deal with the Council?"

"Keep your mind on the present moment, the Force shall bring us the answer…." I chorused with another, ghostly, voice. Aeren looked thoroughly creped out.

"No that's just creepy!"

* * *

Almost two days had passed and neither of us caught sight nor sound of Obi-Wan, apparently he was obeying my directive. This development was rather surprising – though I wouldn't say unpleasant – as despite my bluster to Aeren, I actually didn't know what I was doing when I pulled a 'Jinn' and lectured Kenobi. As in, I really wasn't sure if he'd just bat my blade away and knock me unconscious. I really wasn't expecting him to listen.

As Anakin prepared the ship – oh yes, Anakin. Skywalker was a whole different story on his own. After Aeren and I rested for a few hours, we decided to meet with the others. The five civilians were actually two technicians, a scientist and two CSF officers from the Undercover Investigation Unit. They were apparently captured and required extraction from an unknown droid production facility on Nanth'ri which warranted the assistance of the Jedi. Though the group had never seen us before, they thanked us profusely, calling us "Master Jedi" and saying things like, "Your timely intervention"-blah-blah. As my friend and I tried to gracefully extricate ourselves out of the situation, Anakin literally dropped in on us from a ceiling access hatch and requested some help or another, something about a hydrospanner I believe. Beating a hasty retreat, and mumbling something along the lines of helping out with a critical problem with the ship, we eagerly rushed to the access port and clambered in.

Anakin had been rather amused with our situation and I remember him agreeing with me that he hated public relations, and he preferred to handle them with a lightsaber. He of course was curious as to who we were and where we came from. Having spent a good part of the last four years at the Temple, Anakin was confident that he knew all the current Padawans by sight if not name, and obviously he never saw us there. I debated for a few seconds what to tell Anakin, and decided to tell him the truth – the full truth, not a truth from some twisted point of view. He had enough of those in _Clones_ and _Sith_ and that's partly what made him turn.

So far our honesty seems to have paid off. Anakin accepted us and our story much quicker than Obi-Wan did. In turn Skywalker has shared some information with us, information that all my knowledge of the EU couldn't help with, like for instance, how to better shield our thoughts. That would be rather crucial during the Council meeting I believe.

Now I found myself standing in the cockpit, watching as Anakin took us off the Hydian Way and sent our ship back into hyperspace along the Perlemian Trade Route. We would be at Coruscant in around six hours.

* * *

As the Luminous-II – for that was the name of the modified Yacht – approached Coruscant's atmosphere, Obi-Wan entered the bridge. I heard his footsteps falter, no doubt as he noticed who was in the co-pilot's seat – me. Acting oblivious, Anakin turned to me, "The Jedi have a private corridor of airspace reserved especially for their use so you can fly us it toward the Temple, no problem. I'll take over when it's time to land in the hangar. Just do what feels right and it'll be wizard!"

"Anakin, are you going to infect these poor, unsuspecting and innocent Padawans with your flying techniques?" barely had Obi-Wan uttered the first few words when I spotted the change, he spoke more freely, more jokingly, and he certainly didn't reprimand anyone for anything. Maybe he was taking my advice to heart, I hoped so.

"Hey Master, but they aren't Padawans yet, they told me so themselves?" I just had to grin at Anakin's response, it was carefree and light. If things went according to **my** plan then that tone would stay with him.

"They aren't, but they will be," Kenobi declared solemnly, "They will be…."

* * *

Listening to Anakin's, and the Force's, guidance, I managed to safely pilot the ship into the atmosphere and guide it towards the Temple. I was rather surprised how easy it seemed, or maybe that was because this was a non-lethal situation and I had proper coaching. I really don't know.

When the Temple came into visual range, Anakin took over the controls and in a matter of two and a half minutes the ship was docked. Following his instructions we shut off all the systems and walked back to the cargo hold and ramp. The whole group was assembled, there was Aeren standing next to Obi-Wan, the CSF officers by the ramp, and the other three just lifting up their packs.

"Alright," Master Kenobi addressed the group, "Lieutenant Kirthon, a CSF speeder is awaiting your team near the exit doors over there…" he indicated the general direction with a wave of his hand, "Padawans Sunrider and Halcyon, put up your hoods before you leave the ship, we don't want a mob of younglings asking questions on the way to the Council briefing, do we?" With that he gestured and the access ramp lowered to the permacrete floor.

Obi-Wan's suggestion seemed to work as no-one payed any attention to our little party as we strolled through the cavernous halls of the Temple in a military diamond formation. We reached the south-eastern atrium and boarded a turbolift car.

As the doors slid shut behind us, Obi-Wan turned to give one final brief. "When we enter, stay in formation. Let me deal with the explanations until I signal you or the Council directly demands it."

We nodded, we were ready.

* * *

**I guess this is it, for now. Tell you what, I've got a one-shot in the works that I'll post as a bonus for this disasterous drought.**

**May the non-existant Force Be With You  
**


	4. Chapter 4: At Council with Counsel

**And I'm back with ahem, myself.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: At Council with Counsel **

As the burnished doors rolled open, I saw the Council chambers for the first time – the first time with my own eye that is. It was magnificent. The morning sun bathed the Coruscant cityscape in a gentle golden light and glittered over the many transparisteel windows and viewports out there. For a moment, I was lost in the beauty of it. Nabooian nights might be the best of their kind, Tatooine sunsets may be unrivalled, but Coruscant dawns were still a fair sight to see, from this vantage point anyway.

I was so absorbed in the contemplation of the scenery that I did not at first register the beings present in the chamber. When I did, I suddenly became thankful for the deep hood covering my face in shadow. It would not do to get caught gaping by people such as Yoda or Mace. Nor would it do to stand like one of those statues from the archives. There are other ways to gage someone's surprise after all, not just their expressions. I made a mental note to thank Kenobi for the gentle Force-tug he gave my belt to keep me moving forward and scanned the room's occupants. Whatever you say about me being a geek, you can't say that it isn't useful, after all 'nothing happens by accident' as a certain maverick would say. Long hours of browsing the web, looking at various photographs, and pages upon pages of production information let me easily identify the councillors: Eeth Koth, Depa Billaba, Yarael Poof, Oppo Rancisis, Saesee Tiin, Even Piell, Yaddle, Adi Gallia, Ki Adi Mundi, Yoda, Mace Windu and Plo Koon.

Obi-Wan, as befitting the most senior Jedi among our little party, led as to the centre of the room, bowed respectfully, and stated, "We're back Masters…." Really, what was the point of saying that if all twelve of them could see and sense us? But I guess that was what passed for small talk in such a setting.

"Welcome you we do, Knight Kenobi, and you young Skywalker. But who your friends are hmm? To hear this story I would like, but business we have. Report on your mission to Nanth'ri you will now." Seriously? I thought that GL was just messing with us, thought I did, that normal Yoda could speak, yes. That green goblin is a total joke!

"We acquired our transport from the covert operations hangar as ordered and departed an hour after we left your presence. Upon reaching Nanth'ri, we discovered that there were several manufactories scattered over the southern hemisphere. Most belonged to legitimate business concerns however a few proved suspicious. My Padawan managed to obtain cleaning droids from these facilities and reconfigure them for espionage. On our second day at work we spotted our targets – a hem – the party in need of extraction. As they were not yet being held, we decided to come in through the front door and fake arresting them, however their cover was somehow blown and we wound up backing them out all the way from the brig to the ship. There we were beset by combat droids and the facility's security personnel which lead to a stalemate. Then Halcyon and Sunrider decided to join us, blow the droids, and rush in – lightsabers ablaze. We came under attack by droid starfighters as soon as we left the atmosphere, and the ship was partially damaged in the melee, however through some miracle Anakin managed to jump into hyperspace with my lunch still inside me. In short – we were successful."

When Kenobi finished, I was glad he didn't mention that Aeren and I could hardly shoot, or any other weird things. Of course, I should not have been. Master Yoda sensed my relief and instantly turned his head in my direction. After allowing Mace – Windu – to thank Master Kenobi for his report, he began with me.

"Young Sunrider, who you are hmm? For a Padawan you are not…."

Show time… "That is correct Master Yoda."

"Interesting this is. Know me you do, though from here you are not."

I smiled, it was time for me to enable _cryptic-master-mode_. "No, we're not from Coruscant – nor even from this Galaxy or time," had the Force not confirmed my words – I don't even want to know what would have happened – as it was, even with my lack of training and the councillors' shields, I could still feel their surprise. "We did not come here deliberately, and we are as yet uncertain as to our purpose here. However seeing as how we are here before this council, and how of all the places in the Galaxy we materialised on Nanth'ri while Anakin and Kenobi were there no less, I would assume that we are meant to help the Jedi Order somehow."

"Isn't that a bit presumptuous, **young** one?" Master Windu deliberately stressed 'young', oh well, he's as grumpy as the movies made him out to be.

"Presumptuous, Master Windu? Possibly, however just for your information, there are going to be **four** galactic-scale wars over the next seventy-or-so years. Oh and the Jedi order will be wiped out at least once, and nearly so twice, in that same time period. Also, the Sith Lord Darth Sidious has got himself another apprentice. And oh my, how could I forget an **ENTIRE PLANET** full of forgotten Sith?

There was a shocked silence in the room. Not that anyone was talking while I was, but you could almost feel – correction – you could feel the astonishment in the room. When Master Yoda spoke, his voice was raspier than usual. "Know this, how do you?"

And so I rattled of my previous spiel about the Whills, Earth, my life, and whatever I thought might be useful. Over the course of my narrative, the feel in the chamber changed from shock to disbelief, and then to something cold.

"They are too dangerous!" exclaimed Master Windu, as he leapt out of his chair in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, "The future is not for mortals to know! And if this information falls into the wrong hands—"

"So don't let it…" I interjected infuriatingly. Wrong thing to say.

"Believe me, I wasn't planning on it!" yep, definitely the wrong thing to say. Judging by that finger in my face, I'd say he's really miffed.

"And how were you planning to accomplish that? Like with Revan? Wipe my identity, make me believe I was a Temple reject and send me off to the AgriCorp? Isn't that against the Code? No wait, the Code is only five lines long, of course it isn't!"

That got to him. Angrily he began rattling off the code to me. One problem though, he missed a line. When he finished, I shook my head in feigned disappointment. You could almost hear me say '_Tsk, tsk. Jedi Masters should know the Code at least._' I didn't, Instead I calmly, without my previous cockiness, resited:

"There is no emotion, there is peace;  
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge;  
There is no passion, there is serenity;  
**There is no chaos, there is harmony; **  
There is no death, there is the Force…"

Really, I have no idea what these people learn, but I would've thought they at least knew their stringent code. Aa, maybe some actually do. Or at least Yaddle seems to.

"Correct you are, young Sunrider. That line you spoke, present it is in our code…." In your faces all you critics! Here's the use for these _trivial_ and _irrational_ things I do! I guess you'll never know though, for if I was to tell you, I'd probably be on an express trip to the nearest nuthouse. "Learn that did you, in your study of the Whills' Journal?"

"Yes Master Yaddle. If it interests the Council or Master Nu, I also know some previous versions of the Code. For instance, a version which circulated circa six-thousand years before the battle of Ruusan or the so-called 'Old Code' from the time of the_ Jedi Civil _and _Great Galactic_ wars."

Ah, nothing like hard evidence to prove a point. Sure I blabbered about me knowing what was, is, and will be, but something concrete – even the tiniest bit – goes a long way in proving oneself to the Council.

"Young Sunrider," spoke up Adi Gallia, "Forgive me for asking so bluntly, but when you corrected Master Windu, there was no arrogance or impudence in your manner or signature, nor was there self-satisfaction when Master Yaddle acknowledged that you were correct…" she politely hesitated, letting me pick up on the trailing sentence.

"…Why? Why was I not pointing out every-single-fault that I saw in the Jedi Order? Why was I not doing the 'sucker' act?" I smiled, "Probably because I'm stuck here for forever – or at least until the Force sees fit to send me back. And strategically thinking, there is no point in alienating the only group with whom I can be safe, for the time being anyway."

"But surely your convictions about the Order are not without merit – for you at least. Why not voice them?" I just couldn't resist smiling when I spoke next.

"I would've done so, had this been a dream or a story written for fun. However I'm not _that_ arrogant. I admit I have my share of cockiness, I can irritate almost anyone to near loss of sanity if I try hard enough, but I know when to quit. And standing before the Jedi High Council with nowhere to go and some serious info is definitely time to be – to show my better side…."

"Trained as a Jedi, I sense you wish to be hmm?"

"Yes Master Yoda," I acknowledged with a bow, "I believe that the Order may benefit from my experiences, however I will not push this matter further. My main reason for requesting training stems from a small discovery I made during the trip here," time for the good ol' telekinesis display. I unclipped my saberstaff and laid it on the floor. Closing my eyes, I stretched out a hand for the weapon. It began trembling with the effort as I started almost unconsciously whispering my adaptation of the Jedi Code,

"_To oppose dark, a light must shine;  
To counter passion, serenity is mine;  
To hear the Force, a Jedi learns;  
Yet what is right, he still discerns. _

_Steadfast in the light I stand,  
Defending right with glowing brand*.  
And with the Force as my ally,  
Succeed I must, succeed will I…"_

As I said the last 'I' the hilt thumped comfortably into my waiting hand, and a sense of relief coursed through me before I could stop it. I did not think that I would be able to levitate the hilt a meter and a bit in the air, not without any training, anyway. Strangely the words that I made up so long ago seemed so warming and so right… I don't really know what to say anyway….

When I looked up, I found the entire council as well as Aeren, Kenobi and Anakin, all staring at me as if I just shifted the Jedi Temple off Coruscant. It took some time, but Halcyon managed to whisper in an awed voice, "Your hand … it glowed when you did that…"

"Those words you spoke, of your creation were they?" Master Yaddle questioned me, and maybe I was imagining it, but she sounded oddly fascinated. My first thought was that I blew it, I come asking for training, and start spouting my little rhymes, really? But oddly no-one reprimanded me, Adi Gallia just sat back as if she had come to some conclusion, and the rest of them, well who knows.

The Council switched over to scrutinising Halcyon, beginning with Mace Windu of course, "Young Halcyon, I sense you also wish to begin Jedi training?"

"Well Master Windu, sure yeah, otherwise Nik wouldn't be speaking for the both of us."

"Do you realise that you are much too old to be accepted, you look to be at least sixteen standard?"

"Yep, sixteen standard, and don't worry there was this guy who was twenty three when he started training, Luke Skywalk—" Aeren frantically slapped a hand across his mouth, too late.

"_He's right you know,"_ came a ghostly voice, that of Qui-Gon Jinn.

And that was when all heck broke loose. Everyone was so loud that I remembered only one line from the chaos, that being, "From beyond the pyre, come to antagonise us you have, Master Jinn. Surprised I would not be, if of your doing, their appearance was…"

"_You flatter me, Master Yoda, I did not orchestrate this, but the Force and some friends did…"_

"We had enough tantrums while you were still alive, don't tell us that you are back to haunt us with more… please!" That coming from Mace was hilarious.

"_Oh I am here to request a favour, you see, these two should be trained…" _

"No theey are too ould!" an interjection by Master Mundi, softly spoken, but stern.

"With all due respect Masters, if we are too old," that was Aeren again, I suddenly got a feeling that he was going to do something either stupid, or brilliant, "does that not mean that we may prove a danger to ourselves and the population at large with our gifts undeveloped as they are? And what if Count Dooku finds us, sure there may be better candidates for his Acolytes, but Sith training sort of hurts and I personally don't want to risk it…"

Strangely it was Master Yaddle who chose to end the debate, after exchanging (at least I think so) a look with Master Gallia, she hobbled over to Aeren, all the while grunting like her granddad, "Déjà vu I feel, this problem, with young Anakin we faced. Days we spent, in deliberation. Days I do not want to spend again, discussing a similar topic. Fine, Skywalker has turned out so far. Known we would not have, if attempted this, we did not. The truth, young Halcyon speaks, trained they must be, if protect themselves they will. A trail this will be, if older students can be taught…." Of course there were objections, but Yaddle silenced them with pointed glares and words akin to "If a thousand years, nothing changed, means it does not, that change nothing will in the next thousand. At the Sith you should look Master Tiin."

At a gesture from the green Master, Adi Gallia walked over … to me. I knew what was about to happen, so I frantically began checking her character profile in my head. At least she wasn't like Windu, or Tiin. Probably had some flexibility in terms of Jedi teachings.

"Nik Sunrider," the Tholothian began in a ritualistic voice, "Do you accept my offer of apprenticeship?"

"I do…" following a hunch, and something I read in a book, I held out my lightsaber, cupped in both hands.

"Will you trust me to guide you in the ways of the Force, the Jedi and Galaxy?" so we were doing it the old Corellian way, that was good.

"I will…"

"Do you accept your duty to the Jedi Order and its members?"

"I do…"

"Do you accept your duty and responsibilities as a Jedi Knight?"

"I do…"

"Can I count on you, Nik Sunrider, to stand at my side in battle, in Council, and in the field?"

One interesting aspect of Corellian Jedi tenets was that the Jedi in question was not obligated to swear fealty to the Republic, only to the Jedi, one's fellows, and one's Master. So, I solemnly intoned, "You can, Master Gallia…" Another curious tid-bit was that not only the Master took the Padawan's oath, but the other way around as well. If either party breached their pledge, the other was no longer bound by theirs. The same also went for the Order at large, generally represented by the acting Master of the Order or Grand Master. So digging up the lines from scraps of memory, I spoke,"

"Master Gallia, you have accepted me as your student in the ways of the Force and Jedi. I have sworn to uphold the ideals of the Jedi and the Code. I have sworn that I will be an honourable student, and follow my Master, wherever the Force leads. Can I in turn rely on my Master to train me fairly, to judge my actions honestly, and to serve the Galaxy and the Force?"

"You can, my Padawan…" With those words the lightsaber levitated off my upturned palms, rotated to a vertical position and clipped itself on my belt.

When that was over and done with, my newly appointed Master and I turned to look over at the proceedings now taking place in the centre of the room. Ironically, the 'Corellian' among us, Aeren was doing things the traditional Jedi way. He was kneeling on one knee before Master Yaddle, who even in this configuration was seriously shorter than him. The four-hundred-some Jedi Master was holding out Aeren's lightsaber in much the same was as I was, however Halcyon's hand also rested on the hilt. And the Oath he spoke was the post-Ruusan one,

"My training as a Jedi starts today.  
I will let my Master show me the way.  
The Force and Republic I will avail,  
Help bring peace, and Light prevail."

Four lines, simple, and sworn to the Republic. I could barely stop myself from uttering a disgusted sound. What if the Republic fell under control of say, a Sith lord, and the Jedi were ordered to do some gruesome stuff, or abandon innocent people for the _good_ of the Republic. They would be obligated to comply. That's why I've always believed that the Jedi had to be independent of any government. Well that would have to be for a later time. Now I was happy, I get to learn how to choke people, summon Cola cans to my hand from across the room, and maybe I get to save the Galaxy, what could be better?

* * *

We were casually strolling north across the Temple, Aeren and Master Yaddle on my left, Master Gallia directly to the right, and Obi-Wan and Anakin further off that way. It amazed me honestly, back home there wasn't much info about the Temple's interior, two paragraphs of text on some "Official" wiki and exactly one-and-a-half images of the cavernous halls. I tried to imagine what they could look like, I tried to replicate them in 3D emulation software, but as I now saw, I hadn't even come close to depicting the true brilliance of these halls. The current passage, an arterial south-north corridor, ran from the turbolift lobby below the Council Tower, and along the east side of the Temple to the accommodation sector. The passageway was a good four meters from wall to wall and about ten tall, making our, and other, little groups seem very small and insignificant.

About half way to our destination, Anakin chose to break the silence, "Hey Nik, looks like you got yourself and your friend made Padawans, nice job! It took the combined might of Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to get me in…"

I smiled, "It took the combined might of Master Qui-Gon and myself to get _me_ in…"

"Now that you're officially part of the Order, you better get some ground rules down. Rule number one: never cross Master Windu unless you have a brilliant escape plan. Number two: if you see Master Yoda—"

"—keep clear of the gimer stick?" I couldn't resist adding. Apparently I was correct as Anakin and Obi-Wan burst into laughter.

By the time we reached the housing wing, I stopped gaping at the corridors and managed to have a semi-intelligent discussing with Anakin, mainly revolving around aspects of Temple life that I didn't get from my studies on Earth.

We settled on meeting in the refectory for evening meal and parted ways. As a High Councillor, my master got some neat quarters higher up in the complex, while the tormenting duo were farther down and Master Yaddle was on the far side in the special rooms reserved for members of her species. I actually felt sorry for Aeren, he would hardly be able to crouch inside if half the stuff I heard was true.

* * *

As the doors to my new quarters slid shut, I got my first hint that what I read back home wasn't always true here. For instance, materials I've read suggest that Padawans are housed in dormitories of four a piece, in reality however, when a Master or Knight takes on a Padawan, they are assigned a set of shared rooms.

For High Councillors they apparently consisted of a wide living space with a balcony opposite the door, a small kitchenette to the left and a series of smaller rooms branching off a passageway to the right of the door. When I took this in, Master Gallia told me to get accustomed to the area and waved to a room directly inside the passage informing me that it would most likely be my place of residence for a good decade if not more.

After a good hour of careful study of every single object in the apartment, I settled myself down on one of the couches in the living room and was soon joined by my teacher,

"Well Padawan – I haven't used that title in four years – I would like to question what you already know of the Jedi, but I sense that you have a query of your own?"

"Ah, yes Master … why?"

"Why did I choose you?"

"Yes Master, you've barely met me, and I admit I didn't act that impressive in the Council chamber, I didn't expect to get chosen so soon…"

Adi Gallia looked rather uncomfortable, which I thought was rather strange, Jedi Masters are not supposed to be uncomfortable, I guess it might have been for my benefit, "I'm afraid I have to apologize. Your mind … it was so easy to read … I could feel that you wanted to just spill it all out, your contempt, your reservations … but you didn't you held it in check. I'm sorry, but I also saw some moments from your past, when you were at your school … it would be hard carrying that much baggage into a new world. The Jedi … we grow up in the Temple here, from our earliest memories we are taught not to hate, not to be angry. We do not have reasons to be. We know little of the outside world until we are Padawans and are sent to negotiate or extract someone, or keep the peace somewhere. It wasn't until I sensed your thoughts that I understood what the Jedi Order could truly gain from your and your friend's presence here … not some knowledge of the future, not what people think about us, but the knowledge of what life is like to others … to those not raised within the Order from childhood … people have lived on without our rules and code and they have survived, how? That is the true knowledge we can gather … the fact that our way is not the only one…"

Honestly I was stunned, I was indeed curious how I was chosen so quickly, I thought maybe for the information I held. When Master Gallia spoke of sensing my thoughts I thought it may have been out of pity, but I sure didn't expect what I got… maybe, just maybe the Order wasn't as far gone as I thought it was… maybe I could save it while I was here anyway … just this once….

* * *

**Not much action here - correction - none. I have decided to make this into a novel-length story so 100,000+ words. This means that some chapters will deal with situational development (like this one), others character development, basically a normal novel, like the FOTJ books.**

**Yes, I have invented a version of the Jedi Code, based solely off my imagination.  
**

** * The word "brand" is in this instance not synonymous to "trademark" and instead has the meaning of "pole", "stick", "staff" or "weapon". Big thanks to J. R. R. Tolkien for expanding my knowledge of English.  
**

**The apprenticeship ceremony may have turned out awkward as I don't write oaths as a profession and the wise and mighty Wookieepedia has no info in that area, so like Anakin, I had to improvise.  
**

**Till next time,  
**

**The Fiction Will Be With You, Always...**

Clean word count: 3,965

Edit Date: 12/21/12 AEDT


	5. Chapter 5: This Weapon Is My What?

**A note to readers, though off topic, I have recently posted the final chapter to _Skyfighter: The Ones_. A sequel to that story will be written ... eventually.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: This Weapon is My **_**What?**_

"Careful … sense the remote … feel the warning … deflect the blast … I said deflect, not absorb with your body parts!" So apparently Master's got a sense of humour. Recovering from the mild sting to my thigh, I brought my blade up in an imitation of a Shii Cho ready stance and waited. The wait wasn't long, three hisses later yet another blast came my way. This time I just tried not to think, and oh joy, I deflected it!

The next part came just like on the Falcon, three blasts in rapid succession which I swiftly blocked, even the acknowledgement sounded like Ben's. "This time," instructed Master Gallia, "Use this…" and she tossed over my saberstaff. Apparently my emotional outburst wasn't as controlled as I hoped since Master Adi merrily laughed and stated, "You came here with this weapon, it stands to reason that you were meant to wield it. Oh don't worry, I turned the blade intensity down to a training level…"

Shrugging uncertainly, I clipped the hilt on my belt, waited a moment, and suddenly snatched it up, activated an end, twirled it in what I hoped was an impressive flourish and ignited the second blade. The stance I took, right hand outstretched, left foot back, body slightly turned on one side and in a half-crouch, saberstaff held loosely in my left hand, you get the picture, might have looked good with a gutter cleaner pole, or with my stunt weapon, but honestly I had no idea how it would work in a moderately real situation. Master gave a not and a twitch of her hand sent the training remote into action.

It was no big deal deflecting the first shot aimed at my head, and a flick of the wrist dispatched the one heading for my stomach, but then came four shots fired in rapid succession. Leg, shoulder, other leg, side. With an inexplicable skill I switched the grip and holding the lilt in a more traditional quarterstaff fashion, began twisting left, right, dodging this was and that, ducking… looks like my tomfoolery paid off. Or maybe not…. Chasing after the remote, as despite my display, I was miserable at blaster deflection even compared to initiates, I was forced to counter more and more shots. To clear the distance faster, and to dodge a particular volley, I tried to execute an Ataru jump. One problem: I hadn't yet learned to harness the Force in any capacity effectively, let alone fancy acrobatics. Suffice it to say that I landed awkwardly – fell – and right atop my lightsaber. Had it been full-powered, I would have been one spinal colon short. Somehow through the not insignificant pain of the burn on my back I managed to roll over and yank up my saber, deflect yet another stupid bolt, and send the blue-bladed terror, javelin style into the infernal training device.

The trip to the healers was not too long, apparently masters got tired supporting injured students all the way across the Temple, so for those not yet accustomed to lightsabers – or new weapons of any kind – they trained near to the healer's wing. All the while, a most fowl concoction of horrible words spewed from my mouth as we first got to the med-centre, and then I got a bacta patch slapped onto my back and kicked out.

I actually should have known better, for as soon as we left the more public areas of the Temple and retreated to the lake level, Master Gallia began the no-anger lecture,

"Padawan, you yourself quoted our code, but do you understand it? We advise against anger for a reason, it is—"

"Master, I wish to respectfully interrupt," I could tell she was curious, but she stopped, "I am indeed aware of the Jedi Order's belief of anger, and their general stance on emotions of any kind. I actually agree that anger is not the best emotion as it rests control from the person and guides their actions instead of common sense or the Force. I have actually experienced this first hand, however not all emotions are bad. For what are we without emotions but mindless droids obeying someone's will or our programing? No emotions are not bad, it is what we do with them, now hold on before you start chiding me for sounding like a Sith … hear me out! Emotions are not bad per say, they are just negative and positive. If we chose to let our emotions control us instead of dealing them, some bad things can happen, but we **cannot** reject them utterly. Nor really can we control them, we cannot control what we feel, we can control what we do about it. Releasing them to the Force, to the air, to whatever you chose, does not help, you have to acknowledge what you feel and why you feel it, you have to then do something about it, be it remove the irritant, smash a punching bag, or run ten klicks…."

It took me some serious time to realise this, but I eventually did, and it oh-so-helped me. Apparently what I said was partially getting through to my teacher, for after a moment of frowning, she turned to me and asked, "So is this why I didn't feel any darkness while you were cursing everything from Tatooine to Mygeeto? And is this how you dealt with emotions before you had the Force?"

"Yes and yes. And why start the 'if you don't shut up then your eyes with turn yellow' lecture if there was no darkness?"

"Preventative measures…" we chuckled a bit at that. After a moment, Master decided to start a Force exercise with a statement akin to "Can't do saber practice until that burn heals, so let's practice telekinesis, just don't hit yourself with anything…" As a demonstration, the Tholothian twitched a finger and lifted a handful of pebbles. She repeated the process a few more times telling me to concentrate on the patterns of the Force, sort of feel what it feels like, so I did.

My first attempt was a guided one where – I don't know how – Master Adi guided my mind through the process of focusing on the object of interest and then manipulating the Force to make the object levitate. When that was done, Master told me to try it myself, though of course she didn't say 'try'. Eye still open, concentration settled on a grey stone barely a meter from me. Concentrating as I was showed, I twitched my left pointer-finger up, and to my greatest surprise, it lifted and hovered steadily … for all of three seconds.

I really didn't understand Master's praise, but she explained that summoning objects to one's hand as I had already done, was easier, just holding them steady in mid-air was harder, much harder. She was however surprised by how quickly I managed to accomplish what I did, a feeling strengthened when after showing me a technique to hold the pebble steady, I did it for twenty seconds.

The next few hours were spent similarly, Master Adi would show me a Force trick bit by bit, I would attempt it, and I would get it right first time around. By the end of that training session, I was able to lift, move, hurl, decelerate, and even break weak telekinetic grips on objects.

_It is rather strange,_ I thought,_ it took Luke weeks of time to perfect rock-lifting and he was like the second strongest Force-user in the entire history of the Jedi._ Woops, Master just caught that thought, now she wants to know who Luke is. Apparently there is a drawback to my fast-paced learning ability, that being the extensive telepathic connection, commonly known as a 'Master-Padawan Training Bond', 'MPTB', 'training bond', 'Force Bond', or just plain 'bond'.

And then it hit me, an ability I myself described in a moment of inspiration, _'Force Syphon'_ an ability to absorb knowledge and even memories and sensations from another mind. One major drawback required the target to be Force-Sensitive (So no using it on the Vong or most civilians) and a telepathic link. Another drawback was the killer headache that came from extensive use of this skill, I just groaned as the migraine began to set in.

* * *

I've had some serious headaches in my day, but this one really took the cake. I wonder, if I didn't include the thing about the headache in that retched fan fic, would I still be having one? Probably, coz this world is not influenced by my writing, for if it was, Palpatine would have been dealing cards on Nar Shaddaa and not messing up with the Republic. Anyway, the walk to our quarters was a blur, Master supporting me all the way for the second time that day, though it was rather evident that my headache was affecting her through that training link. And so came my first lesson in pain control. Handy thing that, works better than conventional pills from back home, but takes concentration, which is hard to muster while your head is throbbing like there's a black hole inside your skull while another is on the outside and they alternate between one-another some ninety times a minute.

Either I learn how to deal with the pain myself, or I am not using this technique, even though I awoke the next day feeling refreshed and well, and my head miraculously intact, I can remember that Master had to effectively knock me unconscious with the Force to do anything for herself and then me, which would be so inconvenient on so many occasions that I can envision.

After an early breakfast we decided to start with meditation and then a quick lesson in shielding followed by a conscious effort at learning pain control. When that was out of the way, it was noon and Master Adi sent me off to "…Have a break and see if you can meet Anakin…" so I did.

Alright, now I'm certain that there is such a thing as 'the will of the Force' for as I exited the turbolift on _Knight Level 4_ and turned the corner, I ran into Anakin. Or should I say, he ran into me. "You're lucky I wasn't Buster Windu, or you would be getting one shining-bald talking-to…"

Anakin laughed as he picked himself up, "Buster Windu? Nice one, join the hate club!"

"A Jedi feels not hate," I whispered conspiratorially, "Unless it pertains to the gimer stick or lectures…" It was my intention to get into Anakin's trust circle as soon as I realised that I had no way of getting home by myself, however I was surprised that it seemed so easy to do so. It felt natural, same adventurous spirit, same "you annoy me so I wanna punch you in the face" attitude, we would get along fine in the years to come. "So Walker, what have you been doing, walking?"

"Just finished some training with Master Obi-Wan, he let me have a break for now so I thought I'd see how you and Aeren were doing?"

"Haven't seen Aeren since the Council meeting, so I have no idea about him, but I've been practicing Shii Cho blaster deflection and a start with telekinesis…"

"You serious?" Master Obi-Wan didn't let me use a training lightsaber until I was ten and a few months past that!" as our conversation progressed, we moved off toward the refectory for the mid-day meal.

Eventually the situation arose where I could broach the topic which was nagging at me for some time, "Hey Anakin," my reply was an affirming grunt, "You're a good slicer, right?" this time the grunt was less certain, "Can you get me the layout of the Temple for my datapad? You see, the Whills apparently didn't see it necessary to include floor plans…"

"Not such a good slicer, I'm better at mechanics, but I got the plans back from the first time I came here, can you come over after evening meal to our apartment?"

"Sure why not, ah … but I don't know where it is…" Anakin's answer was forestalled as we turned a corner and approached the dining hall doors. The room's design was rather interesting, tall – two storeys at least – with two rows of long tables running along each side of the main walkway. Beyond those were smaller, four and six-seater ones scattered haphazardly following no particular pattern but leaving room for clear pathways from the secondary entrances. On the far wall was a standard series of serving counters, arranged by edibility, with queues separated by plasteel dividers.

After getting who-knows-what, Anakin and I retreated to one of the outlying tables to continue our discussion, "You see Anakin, Master did give me a map, but it was a _Padawan clearance only_ one, not what I need…"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, lucky I managed to trick my Master into giving me a high-level map, with all the vent systems, security holocams…" he trailed of for no apparent reason, or at least so I thought until I remembered that Jedi rarely do things without reason, so using on old trick to see what was behind me I lifted a tall glass of some pale yellow liquid (ten years later I would find out that it was meant to be a synthesised juice from Alsakan) taking care to leave enough room for a reflection. Sure enough someone was coming up behind me.

"What was that about security holocams?" Aeren announced himself cheerfully, "you aren't planning on robbing Master Tiin's apartments are you?" with a friendly wave from Anakin and a casual hello from me, Halcyon plopped his tray down on the table and joined in on the discussion,

"Maybe learning under Master Yaddle, a good idea is not, because what am I going to do if my grammar conforms to her style?"

"Well," Anakin chewed on his fork, "you will have to stay with Master Nu than, she'll straighten out all your language difficulties…" his reply was a head-desk from Aeren. Who can blame the poor kid, Mace Windu may be the worst-tempered (grumpiest) Jedi, Master Yoda may wack your shins until they break with his gimer stick, Obi-Wan might be able to negotiate (lecture) you to death, but Head Archivist Jocusta Nu is as dry as old parchment and more perfectionist than even me on a bad day.

The conversation went to many things, Anakin's recent trip to Ilum, some Yoda-jokes, my training – oh Aeren got worked up over the fact that I got to swing a deadly blue glowrod on my second day being a Jedi, apparently Master Yaddle only jabbered about control, patience, and the dangers of the dark side.

"Sometimes I wonder," Halcyon actually said once, "If the whole purpose is to turn us to the Dark Side with all the lectures and warnings…" of course that wasn't true, we knew that, and so did an unnamed Jedi Master that overheard that remark.

* * *

When lunch was over, our merry little group parted ways, with Halcyon going back for more lectures from Yaddle, Anakin off to the hangar, and I on my way to the training rooms. Wonderful thing, bacta, healed up a lightsaber burn in less than twenty-four hours.

The training started easier, we decided to skip blaster deflection for now, and begin with the standard Shii Cho drills. Being the simplest of the seven forms of lightsaber combat, I did not find it too hard, seeing as how it was based off traditional fencing, and the fact that I used a one-sided saber to start off, helped immensely.

I did find it peculiar – or maybe not so, on second thought – that many of the motions, were similar to what I devised for myself back home. The only changes were in the way I held the hilt; whereas a mobility cane has a diameter of 1.2cm, the saber I was using was a good 3.7 to maybe even 4.2.

By evening, and with the aid of the training bond, I had gotten down the first Shii Cho sequence, however it still came with a whopping headache. It wasn't as bad as the day before, courtesy of that pain relief exercise, but it still hurt.

Dinner, or what they call here evening meal, was an attempt Master did to cook something from her home world, she's Corellian by birth, well … let's say, it was hotter than that omelette I foolishly ordered aboard a plane, and let me tell you, that was hot. I probably drank out their entire supply of water that flight.

I'm really not sure whether that was supposed to be a training exercise of some kind, but I didn't mention it, let Master think what she will of the expression on my face. I really hope I'm not going to regret my stoic acceptance the next day.

After delegating the task of washing the dishes to me, Master Gallia said that I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I was back by twenty-one hundred hours for a Jedi related discussion, and left the apartment in a swirl of brown cloak.

The washing up wasn't difficult, as I had done some back on Earth, and had experience, unlike so many of my former classmates. I was not surprised to find that it only took me fifteen or so minutes, considering the really greasy cooking gear and the unusual sink setup. Pulling my brand-new hush-niner-eight off my belt, I dialled Anakin's frequency and told him to meet me at the turbolift.

I like these turbolifts, whereas back home I had to feel over the entire panel to get the right floor button, here I could just say, "Knight Level Four" and be on my way. Skywalker was there when I arrived, rocking back and forth on his heels. With an exchange of usual pleasantries, we headed of down the maze of corridors, with me paying a lot of attention to minute details.

Anakin stopped in front of an innocuous door, conspiratorially whispering the twelve digit code to me. Again my obsession with random things like remembering multi-dozen-digit long alphanumerical sequences seemed to have payed off. Inside we found the quarters empty, empty of living beings that is, it would be impossible to call them empty in any other regard.

When I thought back to my history, I remembered that these quarters where once Qui-Gon's, upon being granted the rank of Master, he refused to be reassigned, and kept them all through the years, to be inherited by Obi-Wan, and then, Anakin and his Padawan. The evidence of times gone by was left standing, potted plants so often favoured by the Living Force enthusiast were scattered all over the floor. The greenery was supplemented by various mechanical parts dotting every conceivable surface, and amidst all that, were datapads, sheets of flimsi, and even books. It looked homely somehow, the grease and grime stains on the walls and floor, datacards lying in piles instead of orderly stacks, cloaks strewn over furniture, it was unique.

"Master's got an invitation to spar with Master Drallig, so I got nothing to do, say, ya think you can help me with a droid?" I nodded in agreement and we set off to a somewhat organised pile of droid bits and pieces.

* * *

I left the Kenobi and Skywalker quarters barely in time to make it to my own. We, Anakin and I, had to abandon his latest project half way through as the MSE-4 had a seriously burned out processor core, so instead he chose to show me a few basic tricks in slicing doors and securing communication channels.

When I arrived, Master Gallia was already back. Strange, how in just a day I began thinking of her as my teacher with more respect than all my previous ones combined. I would have expected to be more displeased with the Jedi as a whole, and show it, or at least feel it. But no… my words in the Council that other day were honest, I did not really want to alienate the Jedi, I just wanted to improve my living conditions so to speak. And as for Adi Gallia, well, she never acted snobbishly, or self-centred, like teachers from back home. Perhaps what I respected the most about her, was that she chose to understand my vision condition, unlike the chakaars back on Earth. During lightsaber drills, she did not wave her flashy sword and expect me to repeat it, she showed me what to do.

"Something on your mind, Padawan? The Force is disturbed around you…" Trust a Jedi Master to pick up on that…

"Memories of home… bad ones. No my home was great, but the places where I learned were … let's just say, I prefer Jedi teaching practices to theirs…"

In reply I received a chuckle, "Prey tell…"

* * *

I lay in bed, I should really change my vocabulary to the local one, I lay on a sleep couch, contemplating my latest discussion with my Master. First off, it should be noted that never in a million years would I have expected a High Council Master to get angry enough to shatter glass with the Force. It should further be noted, that never in a billion years would I have expected said Master to react in said manner toward something I said. No, I thought that I might rile someone on that Council up badly enough to make them go read, but not through a Force-fit, and certainly not over a simple recounting of my past.

I still have no idea how Master Gallia managed to get me to narrate my entire school life, with all troubles included, I suspect a mind trick, but she did. Over the course of the tale, she started getting progressively angrier. By my recitation of year seven, she was gripping the armrest with white knuckles, and by the end, she through that fit. Now we will have to explain to the Council why the window needs to be replaced.

I sort of put it all behind me, as soon as a crisis would pop up, I would get angry, when it died down, I would completely forget about it. It was safer that way, for my sanity, and the livelihood of all the people involved. It was painful to recall all that I've been through, harassment by teachers, assaults by students, but it did not affect me as much as it did my Master.

Suffice it to say, my respect for her has just risen through the roof, and I think that she actually understands my temper troubles better. It did make me feel almost delighted, well that isn't the proper word, for this is a grim situation, but still, it felt better that a Master, get it, Master, reacted to my troubles so, maybe my stay here would turn out better than I anticipated.

Still, I was left with many questions as I began dosing off to sleep, like why me? Why did I come here? Why me of all people, and why here of all places? Why not some SW-3 class geek with even more knowledge and something fancier in mind? Why the Jedi against the Sith, why not the war of the Ring, or the debacle in Narnia, or a visit to the Rangers of Araluen? And how of all possible Padawans did Master choose me? How did it happen so easily, after just half an hour's worth of talk? How would I survive this perilous realm? What should I do, should I interfere, or sit put?

Sleep claimed me before I could clutter my already messy mind with even more questions, answers to which I probably would not find myself, or any time soon for that matter. My face in a pillow, I remembered whispering "Qui-Gon…" before the oblivion of sleep took over completely.

* * *

**Okay, I hope the chapter title fit the topic, I sometimes go through several drafts to get it reasonably right, if you watch the Clone Wars, you know what I mean.**

**Also, I am concerned over pacing and especially the end here, for I had to fit a lot into this chapter, and somehow make it work. Well, I'm an amateur, what do you expect?  
**

**Keep on reading, and May the Fiction Be With You!  
**

Clean Word Count: 4,004


	6. Chapter 6: Convenient Conversations

**Many thanks to those of you who have alerted this story! Oh and an administrative note, the story "Haunted Haunts" is being moved to Category _Books Jedi Quest Series_. Without further ado, here is the chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Convenient Conversations**

I was in some kind of cave, but it did not look like one. The ceiling was vaulted, and along each wall stood many pillars and statues. However it was larger than anything I've ever seen in my entire … well life. I guessed it must have been some artificially enhanced cavern, judging by its size, regularity of the design, and the obvious signs tools around the lake. I had no idea what I was doing there – that is until I heard a certain voice.

"Hh-You've got more questions than an initiate's first time off Coruscant."

"Qui-Gon," I was not in the mood for dillydallying, "Are you here for a reason, or to be all cryptic. Because if it's the latter, maybe you should have gotten Kreia to come instead…"

Yeah he was a maverick, but I didn't know he chuckled that much, "You seem to possess more confidence than your questions would imply…"

"Why come here at all if you aren't gonna answer? Or do spirits suffer from senility?"

"You are here because first, you need a break; second, you and your friend were the most convenient lot. Not ambitious so that you'd run to Dooku or Palpatine, nor too idealistic to cause unadulterated mayhem where not needed, yet with all the knowledge you could need."

Wow, he knows about Palps? And convenient, how rude! Seriously, they don't suffer from senility but they sure could use some manners, those Force-ghosts. I asked him about Sidious' identity, and also about my apprenticeship, to which I got a rather interesting answer.

"Aren't you forgetting the very words of my Padawan from '_A New Hope'_ you know, about being more powerful than anyone can possibly imagine? And of course I know about Sidious, where do you think I am?" Now that threw me.

"_New Hope_? YOU WATCHED _NEW HOPE_! You sith-sucking, bantha's bastard of a Force-begotten fool descendant of Rand! Why is it always me? Why am I the message boy! You could have told Yo-yo about Hidious DAYS AGO!"

On second thoughts, I admire Jedi masterly serenity, he barely twitched, well, except for the smirk. "How astute, I did not expect you to realise that Atton Rand is actually my predecessor. Your insight serves you well. And of course I watched _Hope_, that's why it took me this long to do anything, with getting through all the canon about Obi-Wan's future and all…"

Hold your banthas for a second, he dragged through canon about the Clone Wars and so on? I asked him as much,

"How can you stand so many books, comics, junior novels, and _insider_ magazines?" He shuddered, he actually shuddered! "I'm a spirit, and I nearly dismantled the servers which you call 'wookieepedia'… Anyway, the fact that I've read all the materiel is precisely the reason you are here. You see I had feelings for Master Tahl. And well … Obi-Wan's my son…."

Ah that's just great … just great…. And what the Sith happened to the no-emotion mumbo jumbo? "Kenny's your kid?" I gaped at him for a long period of time, "…So that's why you had me come here. So that he wouldn't act all noble-master-like and get his ass killed on the Death Star. Wait, does he even know? …And that **still** has not answered the question **of how you managed to manipulate the whole shabla Council into accepting us!**" Seriously one would have thought that after all the shouting, he'd just vanish, and let me stew for a bit. Dang, I hate it when people read my mind.

"Don't think I haven't considered leaving, I had enough impudence from my Padawans to last a life time, but you see, I can't until you awaken. As long as you are asleep, this dream will continue. So as to avoid being called anything worse than I already was, I'll indulge you. Obi-Wan was right, we from the _Great Blue Glowy Beyond,_ as you so aptly put it, cannot interact with the physical realm such as you could, however our control of the Force is nearly unbounded. Masters are far too well disciplined to succumb to simple Force persuade, but if one was to say that something was a good idea, they would not know the compulsion to go play Sabacc at the bar from the will of the Force. I got a couple friends to help me out, got you two onto Nanth'ri at just the right moment, than you handled the rest… simple."

I would have been insulted at that blatant manipulation, had I really had a choice, or if this was a really bad mess, as it was, I chose to pull a Jedi, calm myself down, and listen on.

"Now I don't want you to go gallivanting around the galaxy, knocking off future moffs and getting involved with Palpatine… If you were to terminate Tarkin for instance, Sidious would get another to take his place, and we would not have the advantage of foreknowledge. I give you creative freedom, just use discretion and make sure some good folk survive the coming years. Otherwise keep to your original plan, be as much of a pain in the ass as you can… Oh and no, Obi-Wan is not aware of his heritage, and I'd like it to stay that way, at least until he finishes with Anakin."

Strange request about Kenny, still, I sort of understand, when Obi-Wan's duty to Anakin is fulfilled, he can have the grand "I am your father" moment, no point him getting distracted now, especially not if he would stick his head up his ass about it. And finally some direction, just a few questions though, "Master Qui-Gon, so you don't want me to do anything about Obi-Wan? And why have you not told the Jedi about Sids as I already said?"

"The same reason you did not, the Jedi have to fight their own battles, figure out their own crime dramas. And as for Obi-Wan, he's a big boy, he can handle himself. I don't really have any directives for you besides what you were already planning. Now I sense you are awakening, May the Force Be with You, and good luck…."

With that I awoke, feeling more confident than the last time I outsmarted some folks back home. I had new determination, a new purpose: wreak havoc, addendum: discretely.

* * *

Coruscant Prime shone brightly when I got myself presentable and ventured out into the living space. A gentle, yet smog-ridden breeze wafted through the open – absent – window curiously mixing with that of a breakfast being cooked. Master Gallia was up, and looked much calmer than yesterday,

"Good morning Padawan, have you finished your spat with Qui-Gon?"

Wait whaaaat? Is the stern High Councillor actually joking? "You too Master, was I that loud?"

"Some of it was, like the part about him being a quote: 'Force-begotten foolish descendant of Rand!' That's something Mace hadn't come up yet…."

"_What? No censure?"_

A lough, followed by "For what? It's true…." I was having one quirky morning, Master seemed to go from typical stick-up-one's-rear Jedi to a jolly … I don't even have a name for it. I guess yesterday did a lot more good than what I intended.

"I'd say so," I haven't thought Adi Gallia could snort, "It is one thing to hear of problems, it is one thing to see a planet's population in general misery, but it's quite another to get a first-hand account, and the emotions associated with particular situations." Ah, that mind link, she felt what I did at school. Further discussion was interrupted by the apartment's comm,

"Sunrider / Gallia apartment, Padawan Nik here,"

"The Council requires your presence at o-nine hundred." Well, that Jedi had a really long stick up their rear, judging by the tone of voice, typical holier-than-thaw thing.

"Master Gallia, the Council wants to see us in ninety minutes!" I called from the comm station.

"Probably about the window," what an astute deduction, "And cut the 'Master Gallia' nonsense, it's 'Adi', 'Master Adi' got that?"

* * *

I had been in the Jedi Council chamber before – once before – and it hadn't yet lost its appeal to me. Master Windu's voice though, did. If indeed it ever held any. "Explain your actions Padawan!"

Seriously, and that guy preaches to us about emotions? "My actions Master Windu?" I was as curious as I was mocking, for with Mace you could never tell what you were being blamed for.

"Yes your **actions.** We all felt the Force disturbance emanating from your living quarters, and this morning, your window was found absent." And we trust that guy to lead the Order? He can't even tell who caused a Force-disturbance… Master Gallia – Master Adi – seems to agree with me. "We have also received reports of you using vulgar expressions after training sessions. Explain your actions Padawan, or are you unaware of the dangers of the Dark Side? Of course you aren't, you have been here less than a week, and seriously what possessed us to grant apprenticeship to a teenager?"

He should not have said that, he should not have, "You called those vulgar expressions? How about this: You no-good, Hutt-loving, Sith-facial-tendril-sucking, pathetic excuse for a living being who spends his days polishing his vacant head to a shine brighter than Coruscant Prime – hey that rhymes – A worthy descendant of Vrook Lamar's Force-forsaken echuta bastard of a tookata-spawn uncle …" I would continue, but I'm afraid that if any younglings read this, they would be scarred for life. Suffice it to say that my tirade lasted a good quarter of an hour and included profanities from every single language utterable by the human vocal organs. By its end, Mace was red with fury, Saesee Tiin was paler than Hoth and the others had similar expressions of horror. Yoda I was later told by a little bird, shoved his cane in his mouth to keep from laughing, and Master was laughing full on and trying to remain upright. "…And so it should be noted that this Abeloth's nephew, Ronto breathe, has absolutely no grounds upon which he can claim to be superior or to judge others by. Furthermore, being in a room with twelve Jedi Masters should be enough to silence any critics as to my emotional state," That should hurt, because funnily enough, my voice was level, I did not feel anger, in fact what I felt was amusement and excitement, like that before a battle. "Anyways, the apartment needed a draft, it was too stuffy. And as to what I said that day in the healers, to Mustafar with you. Any further questions?"

Ki Adi Mundi spoke up, "You have a lot of nerve addressing the Jedi Council in this manner…"

Oh I do, do I? "I see no problem, I have not violated a single rule in the _Jedi Manual for Anal Followers of the Code_ (JMAFC_)_ Look, I even brushed my hair for this momentous occasion!"

I was either gonna get myself kicked out of the Order, or I was going to drive them up the walls. Master Windu seemed to want the latter. "Not only do you damage Temple property, but you insult us to our very faces!"

And here came Master Gallia's part. Before that is related, it should be noted that Master and I planned this meeting out quite thoroughly. "Surely fellow Councillors, you do not believe that a mere Padawan could muster a disturbance capable of shattering a pane of transparisteel? It is far more likely that my – by your comments – wayward apprentice frustrated me to this length? And I do not see any insults, Nik was just explaining in detail what a proper insult sounded like…"

I heard the sound of jaws hitting the floor, and gasps, Plo Koon was the first to break the silence with a chuckle, "I see we have another fierce Master-Padawan team on our hands. Jinn and Kenobi, Kenobi and Skywalker, and now Gallia and Sunrider, what is the Force coming to?"

You got that right, Kel Dor! Though Mace was still grumpy, "And who is going to pay for the replacement of your window Master Gallia? And what disciplinary measures will be allocated to him?"

"You of course Master Windu, if you saved some money on your head polish than the Temple's budget would be in surplus…" I could not resist that opportunity, "And anyway, this point is moot, I know full well that even as we speak a requisition order was sent out and payed for…"

"No it wasn't Padawan!"

"Oh yess it wasss!" And so a serious meeting devolved into a kindergarten-like squabble. After about twenty repetitions, Master Adi decided to shut us up, possibly pitying the others.

"Stop it you two, you sound like two crèche lings! Though privately, my Padawan is right…" I could practically feel Master's evil grin, "And as for that punishment, I was thinking sending him flying with Anakin, I hear Obi-Wan says it's a uniquely disturbing experience." Her next smirk had two meanings, a "go and play with your pal" one to me, and a "See how evil I am" to the Council.

Windu ignored the last statement and began the "No it isn't!" game once more, until he was interrupted by Master Yoda, "Tired I am, by this rout. On a walk I wish to go, yes. Follow me, you two will…" He waved a clawed hand in our direction as he hobbled to the doors, "And your punishment, replace your window yourselves, you will." then came a most terrifying chortle, not even my best _Yoda_ impression could have measured up to the wickedness of his original.

* * *

We walked in silence all the way to one of the outer mezzanines bordering the top of the Temple, but once there and out of earshot of any nearby Jedi, Yoda humffed out a not-so-subtle query, "Sense I did, the training bond… Sense I did, that communicate you can through it… puzzling this is, takes many years for a Master and their Padawan to forge such a link…."

I decided to voice my suspicions, for the little green guy was a Jedi Master for centuries and I was basing my opinions off people's imagination and my own guesswork. "I found that peculiar, Master Yoda. I might have a theory, which stems from something I wrote about on Earth. When writing a book about Jedi, I described a Force ability – which I classified as 'Force Syphon' – wherein the user forges mental bonds with other Force-Sensitives in order to obtain their knowledge and experiences. Of course I'm the Padawan here, and I'm sure…" here I put on my best Yoda voice "…that win the Job as the Grand Master of the Jedi, in a Sabacc game, you did not, hmmhmmhmmm…"

Only my experiences with mobility canes gave me the skills to leap aside from the gimer stick swipe aimed at my shins, and block the follow-up. Is it amusing to see a Council Master leaning against a wall, chuckling to herself while her Padawan is being chased by the Order's Grand Master, and using his saberstaff's hilt to parry the green goblin's blows? You decide, though I did not find it funny in the least.

When all the commotion died down, Master Yoda went back to being serious, "Think this, what made you?" So I replied that I was able to learn Force skills and katas at a rate that should not be realistic. The Master stared at me, at least I think he did, and then spoke again, "The Force, a mystical energy field, they call it. At times, agree I must. At others not so. This time, the former is true. Such an ability there is, yet taught it must be. Through the Force you came here, and the Force has granted you what you need to be a Jedi. Yet nearing my ninth century I am, and a Jedi with your character, never have I met. A herald this is, of strange things to come. The Force is shrouded in darkness, yet your future, no less important than that of the strongest among us, though not more. Your path you will follow, for here you are not of your will. Succeed where others will fail, yet fail where others will triumph. Always in motion, the future is. The currents of the Force, change they do, ebb and flow like a river, bubble like the Dagobah swamps, yes. Hope we must, that the Force is with us, yet our judgement maintain. Wise you are, in your impudence young one, wiser than many, yet more foolish than most. Come … come, stew I have, eat yes eat…" I shuddered inwardly, if all the stuff written in fics about Yoda's stew is true, I was in for a really bad day. And sometimes you think if nearly a millennia of Jedi life has driven the poor troll insane, there he went off, the swamp loony from _Empire_.

* * *

It wasn't that bad, Yoda's stew I mean, tasty in fact. After we got out of there – Yoda's quarters are really small, as in, the ceiling is like three feet and a bit, Master went off on her Councillor duties while she gave me free rein until fifteen hundred hours. I pulled my datapad and made my way to the archives, I always liked pictures of them, and I could not resist antagonising Master Nu if I had the chance to, but really I had business there.

Some of what people kept on telling me sank through, I was not required to upstage the Skywalkers and their heroics, and I was not mandated to single-handedly save their sorry shebs. I however, was in charge of making sure I could survive, and see if I could be a major pain in the backside to the evil bad guys. I was not about to start changing things like the Clone Wars, I _might_ – crucial word 'might' – prevent the utter devastation to the Order, and I _might_ attempt to stop Alderaan going boom, but that's pretty much it.

I was always considered a good chess player, with a grasp on tactics and sneakiness, and I had an evil plan forming. The seppies would attack the Republic in any case, so the clones were necessary, but I sure could use some loyal ones. But for that, I needed Bardan Jusik. The guy, younger than me by about a year, was featured alongside Omega Squad and was a clone sympathiser, and as Sithly as it sounds, I could use him. But first I needed to meet him, hence the Archives and the terminal.

I could have submitted a legitimate request into the database, but where would be the fun in that? And anyway I needed to practice. So with no hesitation, I sliced the network. And that's when Obi-Wan decided to pay a visit. Seriously that guy has terrible timing!

"Padawan Sunrider, I see you have discovered our – wait, how did you get the clearance for that?"

Life with moronic teachers and computers told me that the 'Alt-tab' route works only on the weak-minded, or utterly stupid. As a Jedi Knight was bound to be neither, I just thought I'd be cheeky, "Courtesy of a few slicing lessons, that's how… You see, I need to be prepared for any eventuality. For instance, my Master and I are on a hypothetical undercover mission where we cannot use our Jedi status to obtain information, how else to get it if not by slicing it? And what better place to start than the Jedi Temple mainframe, I hear it is meant to be the best in the business…."

Honestly I was expecting a Winduy comment akin to 'Padawan, slicing is against the Code, go and clean the freshers…' but instead I got a dry chuckle, "You better not become friends with Anakin then, or the Council will have one big headache…" and then more softly he added, "What's worse, is so will I."

"So, Kenobi, I see you have considered what I said the other day on the ship."

"That is correct, in fact that was what I wished to discuss," He actually wished to discuss it? Wow, I'm like 'Negotiator the Second' or something.

"By all means…" I waved him on, shamelessly continuing my perusal of the accommodation listings.

"I have meditated, as you recommended, on what you told me, and honestly I feel disturbed. Much of what you have said makes sense, however it goes against what the Order has taught us. I am divided between listening to what the Force is telling me, and trusting the wisdom of the many generations of Jedi Masters who have shaped the Order over the millennia."

Oh great, I should have known what I was getting myself into. Consequences and actions, Nik, remember that. "It happens, Master Kenobi. You would have figured out some of what I told you by yourself, but it would have been rather too late by that point. I assure you, my motives weren't all that noble, as I would rather live in an unknown galaxy with free rein than with people who eat, sleep and breathe Code and rules." Closing down the terminal, turned to face my interlocutor. "Have you ever seen non Jedi younglings on field trips for instance. Or have you infiltrated a school of some sort? Of course you have, well do you remember how they act? The instructor tells them not to do something, and they do exactly it. Many people are like that, it is sentient nature. Tell me, how many times has Anakin wished to go flying. Forget it, remember the garbage pit races? Remember what you tell him? Remember what effect your lectures have? It would have been far more effective if you would come with him, maybe tell him how to keep himself safe. There is more than one teaching method, and Anakin is not one of your Temple zombies with a Sabacc face and hardly any spark of life, let alone adventure."

"…A Jedi must put others before oneself. A Jedi is to have the fullest commitment, the most serious mind…"

I slapped myself, "Why aren't Jedi robots? They don't have emotions, and they do not have to fear the Dark Side? Live a little. Remember all those crazy things you did with Qui-Gon! Take the proverbial stick out of your not-so-proverbial ass! And above all, don't lecture me on Jedi this and Jedi that!" My patience was low that day, really low. I stood up and briskly walked off. I just could not stand the Jedi righteousness thing.

* * *

It was about two hours after my conversation with Kenobi that found myself balancing on a very small ledge outside the Jedi Temple, and holding up a pane of transparisteel while Master was figuring out a way to hold it in place. "Master Adi, do you think Yoda knew who caused that disturbance?"

"Of course he did. He knows everything! I half expect that he made us do this ourselves for that reason." Hard to argue with that, _Ow!_ That hurt. Maybe we should just leave this window as it is….

* * *

**Thanks for reading. It sure is interesting to write. I wonder, am I making this too easy for Nik? **

**Anyways, keep on reading, and May the Fiction Be With You!  
**Clean word count: 3,880 | Latest Version: 23/01/13 UTC -8


	7. Chapter 7: The Board is Set

**Things sort-of start moving forward...**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Board is Set  
**

The window was back in place, and Master Adi had gotten me inside the quarters once again, after a celebratory dinner, I decided to move my first piece in this intricate game of dejarick. "Say Master, I know this is probably top secret info, but is the Council aware of a situation on the planet Radnor?"

Through the mind link, I felt her mild surprise, "Radnor? What's there?" mistimed, plan B required.

"Oh, so you didn't get that info yet. Expect to be awakened by an emergence summons sometime around midnight. This dustball, Randor, has a bunch of pirates and looters, a toxic leak, astronomical casualties, and is ready to be invaded by their neighbours. Don't worry, you're gonna send Masters Obi-Wan, Rigol, Soara Antanna and Siri Tachi with their motley crew of Padawans, they'll handle it, fear not."

I would have expected more shock from her, some 'wow' moment or another, or disbelief, nope, I just got acceptance. "Why'd you think that? Oh, I should have known, the Whills…"

I nodded in affirmation, "The Whills. I'd tell you more, but that'd probably complicate the situation. Suffice it to say that there will be a comprehensive mission report by the time they get back, and not from them."

I felt another spike of wonder, kind of what I imagined it would feel to sense the emotion behind a quizzically raised eyebrow, and Master sort-of off-handily asked, "You're trying to prove yourself to the Council, right?"

I replied in a really cheeky voice, "Nope, coz there is no try. I am however, **proving** myself to the Council…." Master didn't appreciate the joke, apparently it is as old here as it was on Earth.

"You write up that report after they leave, and I'll hand it to the Council. We'll see what correlates between yours and theirs." With a grateful smile I dismissed myself and headed for my sleeping chamber, I would have a rather interesting day tomorrow.

* * *

I was not disappointed, for indeed Master was awoken at roughly twenty three hundred, leaving me to my business, she hurried off with a "well done" kind of thought. Seeing no need to be up, I fell back asleep and dragged through the night with dreams of evil bad guys before my mind's eye.

I awoke on schedule, my self-discipline carrying through to this reality, and did my new usual morning routine. Using the katas that I learned, and the sequences I invented back home, to kick start my drowsy self – in case you are unaware, scary dreams plus Force Users usually equals exhaustion – I was ready in less than thirty minutes. Master Adi was back, and looking as well rested as if there wasn't a several interruption to her sleep cycle.

"I need to visit some of my political _friends_ and the Chancellor, so I won't be around for most of the day, Padawan…" munching on what appeared to be the local version of cereal I patiently awaited my orders, "There is a lecture on hyperspace dynamics which I'd like you to attend, it's in … ah blast it! Just check your datapad, I'll beam it to you when I get the details. I'll share with you the next Shii Cho sequence and I'll want you to have it down by day's end. Otherwise, you are free for the day."

That was fine by me, and after another knowledge transfer, I went over to the workstation in the living space to start writing up my report.

Who would have thought that a military report was so much effort! I had always considered myself a reasonable, if not even an above average, writer at school. I had always written A-grade essays, had a knack for summarising material, and left several language teachers gobsmacked, but a puny little mission report, which by all means was nothing more than a dressed-down summary of a children's novel**,**was giving me loads of trouble and a big headache.

Seeing that I had been working for a good one-fifty minutes, I chose to give it up in favour of a better time filler, namely a practice session in the training halls. That turned out to be a mistake. I do not even want to go into the deals, for it was embarrassing. There is nothing more frustrating than having a high and mighty ten year old harass you about your technique and the fact that you are not practicing more advanced drills. Lucky for me, I had vast experience in dealing with brats, unlucky for me, he was as bratty as they come, running to his clan leader in tears.

No, just look, for the purposes of proving that I was right, here is a conversation with said clan leader. "Come here, you!"

"Excuse me, were you addressing me?" look, I know they don't know I'm vision impaired, but shouldn't they pick up on something like that? I mean, he's a Jedi Master, right?

"Yes you with the saberstaff! How dare you disrespect your elders!" Wow, I classify that kind of people as the 'moronic yelling retards' or just 'myr'.

"Excuse me Master – I'm sorry I don't believe we've been introduced – however I did not see who you were addressing. What did you want to talk with me about?"

He was Sullustan, big, fat, ugly, and looked like he wanted a fight, despite being a Jedi. "How could you not see me? Or not know me? Everyone does!"

I officially hate my stay here, or maybe just that guy. "I'm sorry, but not all people have perfect vision. And I was unaware of your name due to that same fact, and also the little matter that I only recently came to the Temple."

"Preposterous! All Jedi are raised in the Temple, and all younglings know their crèche masters! How dare you be so rude as to imply otherwise."

I am not dark. I am not dark. I am not dark. I will not drive my shiny new lightsaber through his skull. I will not drive my shiny new lightsaber through his skull. "Master – I still do not know your name – but my rudeness aside, what was it you called me over for?"

The MYR's face twitched for several seconds, then I think he figured that intimidation would not work on me. "This little one," funny how his voice became almost grandfatherly, "Says you insulted him. And I do not find it hard to believe him as you are insulting the entire Order by using your weapon."

Dude, get your head screwed on straight, or get screwed altogether. "My training saber? How so?"

"Not that you numbskull!" back to being an anal di'kut, "Your saberstaff! It has been outlawed ever since Exar Kun! It leads Jedi to the Dark Side!"

Really? "Really, I was unaware of that. And neither was Satele Shan, or do you claim a Jedi Grand Master deliberately subjected herself to the temptation of the Dark Side during one of the darkest periods this Order has ever seen?"

"OUT NOW!" Seriously, I'm legally blind, but that doesn't mean I don't know where the door is. On the contrary, it is the first thing any sane person like me notes. "Don't you cross my clan again! You hear me!"

I would have sniped at him, but I did not want to cause a scene while Master Gallia was not here for backup. So with a military about-face I stalked out of the dojo. But that guy better watch himself, real careful like.

My grumpy path lead me down many a hallway, with no input from my mind, not consciously anyway. As I drifted this way and that, I replayed that vid where Satele kicked Malgus' ass on Alderaan. Now that I had a saberstaff of my own, I so wanted to do that too. The problem being that because of Darth Bane, there were only two Sith. Oh well, maybe I'll get to kill Asajj or Bulq or someone.

I was literally jolted out of my musings when I instinctively grabbed onto a door jamb just before I would have taken a six meter tumble. It was a strange place around me, reminding one more of Moria than of the Jedi Temple. Hardly any light illuminated the passage, and I seemed to be far away from the more populated areas. The hall was vaulted, just like everywhere else in this structure, but the walls and floor were made of rough stone blocks rather than the pretty tiles elsewhere.

Thinking the place too eerie for my tastes, I wanted to go back, but as soon as I had that thought, something tugged on my mind to move forward. Now dark creepy halls and strange mental urges, are as any sensible story, film or fable, would tell you, bad news. That made me want to not just retreat, but retreat every fast. Until the arch behind me ceiled up with a stone slab that appeared out of nowhere. The whole thing decided to smell like a Sith tomb, smell metaphorically I mean.

Having no other choice since I didn't have a grenade on me, and being very brainless, I decided to move forward. Four tries and my grapnel line embedded itself above archway on the other side of the cavern. One Death Star airshaft-style leap and I was standing on the other side.

I did not have a glowrod, but had two lightsabers, which in theory were as good as one, so using the single training blade for illumination, I moved forth. The journey proved remarkably easy, no traps like I've read about the Korriban tombs, well I guess, being beneath the **Jedi** Temple, this would be more visitor friendly. I walked on for probably thirty minutes along a very twisty-windy route until I reached a grand antechamber, with carvings on the walls, and several doors leading off it.

After only a few attempts, I had discovered that the complex, for lack of a better word, was thought based. In essence, to close a door, you had to visualise the door, and give a mental command for it to close. All the doors in the centre chamber lead off to hallways, each of differing length, at the end of which were different rooms. Down one was a command centre, down another a set of luxurious living quarters. Another lead to a secret hangar and launch tube, while one passage took you to a hub with other hallways branching off from it.

After finding the training room, I spent a good ninety minutes repeating all I'd learned and practicing against training remotes. When that grew boring, and after discovering that there was no lunch to be found, I ventured down the library passage.

When I tried to command the door to open, it stayed as shut as the first time I attempted to do so. Only after a careful mind look over did I notice the mental puzzle. Big thanks to Master Adi for teaching me fine telekinesis, for I had to move a little crystal inside the rock slab for it to open. Though it took me several minutes, and exhausted me thoroughly, I found that it was worth it. On a pedestal square bang in the middle of the floor rested a shining cube, a Jedi holocron.

Now, here is some information about holocrons: don't touch. Many holocrons contain the personality imprint, a part of the maker's spirit, or even their entire essence as with Sith units. Quite often, individuals with less than benign intensions would store their being in a holocron only to transfer to the first body that touches said device. Also, the Gatekeeper could bungle your mind so bad that you would not know wet from red or even totally dominate your mind. So the point is, I was not going to be foolish and activate it. Not until I checked things over.

The other walls in the room were lined with book shelves, which in turn had holobooks, datapads, boxes of datacards, and one set of shelves even shimmered with a stasis field protecting flimsi books. On the floor, paved with the same strange stone, was the sword and wings Jedi crest. The pedestal reminded me of a bird bath though without the basin, and tapered apart into four claw-like well claws, with the holocron supported between them. The sculpture was wrought out of some metal with gold running in intricate patterns all over and forming an inscription in some ancient language.

I recognised said language, as it was from Earth, and it being my first language, I had no trouble reading it. The translation to English, or to Basic, whatever you want to call it, was slightly harder, but I managed it for you.

"_Corusca gem to be its home,  
And to few it will be known.  
Under fortress tall and fair,  
Vaults that many will not dare._

_When for the Good, the times are grave,  
Come will one, this journey he will brave.  
Through halls hewn of rock as old as time,  
Many doubts borne in his mind._

_If seeking knowledge and advice,  
And time is nigh to light's demise,  
Then you will know of whom I speak,  
Use the Force, and wisdom seek."_

It was strange, that when I read the inscription, the constant tugging on my mind had stopped, as if I got to the place where whatever brought me here wanted me to go. Did I ever mention that when an artefact seems to prophecy your coming you should definitely avoid it? Well no, not really. Did I also mention that I was feeling brainless? Yes I did. Well, I chose to consider this place a good guy place, judging by several cliché things like colour scheme, and lack of evil and/or bad feeling, you know….

I don't know why I did it, but I did. I concentrated on the Force and released the clasps holding the Holocron. I levitated it over to my hand, and thought really hard trying to activate it. To my surprise it began emanating a blue glow, feeling warm, and showed a hologram above it.

"Greetings young Jedi, I see you have found me. Your time must be indeed harsh if you made it here."

It took me several moments to recognise the figure, but eventually I did, or at least it's apparel. "Master Shan? Satele Shan?"

"Who did you think? Darth Angril? Yes I'm the holocron of Satele Shan."

"My studies never yielded that gatekeepers had a sense of humour. I thought they were mired in endless cryptic nonsense and bits of perceived wisdom like their original holders."

"My studies never yielded that Padawans could be sarcastic. It was my understanding that the Council routed such behaviour out after the mess they caused at Ruusan."

"You're a glorified Rubik's cube that just so happened to be beneath the Jedi Temple, you cannot conduct studies."

"Oh, but I thought that a Rubik's cube had to have different coloured sides and divided into rotatable sections?" Now this was getting interesting. I must be going really mad, I'm in the middle of a verbal sparring match with a holocron.

"And how would you know that? It could be a flashy thermal detonator for all you know?"

"I highly doubt that they would sell thermal detonators in the toys isles. Besides, your folk haven't invented thermal detonators." How was that said in such a manner that I felt Satele stick her tongue out at me? "That's because I did!"

I heard a laugh behind me, and the same voice said, "Good luck with that, you're going to argue with her for ages." I spun around, snatching up my saber, even though I probably would not be able to do anything with it, and who do you think I saw? Satele Shan, in the flesh, ah glowy blue, Force-Ghost flesh.

"What is it with me and Force spectors?" I groaned, resignedly.

"Qui-Gon already told you, you were the most convenient operative." I banged my head on the nearest wall, several times.

"Do you have something to teach me, tell me, or a third option, or are you going to harass me alongside your holocron?"

"Option four: all of the above!" Creepy to see the holocron and the spirit chorus that.

* * *

It was the same day, but evening when I emerged from the Temple's bowls and made my rather unsteady way to mine and Master's quarters. Be it not for my chrono though, I wouldn't have known that. I was deathly tired, both physically and mentally, and rather un-Jedi like. My patience was at an all-time low, upset by a certain holocron and Spector. My body ached in places that shouldn't even exist, and it was a wonder to me how I walked even remotely steadily.

Many hours had passed in the strange apartments, hours spent following vague instructions in lightsaber combat, and Force related mumbo-jumbo. Despite those replenishment exercises, I was ravenously hungry, and I wanted to throw something against a wall. Satele Shan's holocron was one of a kind, where the gatekeeper inherited far more traits from her template and had unique and special features. Those included an ability to connect mentally to people in close vicinity – like on the same planet – and read their minds effortlessly. And of course, the holocron had an incredibly frustrating personality. It would speak in riddles, poke fun at mistakes I made back home, and generally make things hard for me. By the end of the day's training, I began to doubt whether it was an artefact of the Light, _surely Light Side objects are supposed to be conducive to Light Side points?_

"_I am, nerf herder!"_ Okay, I also discovered that the holocron was at least semi-sentient, was Force-Sensitive, and had a most un-masterly-like temper. _"Wow, congrats! Hip-hip Hooray! You finally figured it out!"_ I just chose to ignore it … her … it….

As expected, the moment I stumbled inside the apartment, Master Adi saw something was wrong. It was hard not to, a blind mynock would have, wait, aren't they blind by default anyway? Who cares! "What happened to you?" Note a double dose of reproach, exasperation, concern and a bit of curiosity mixed in.

"Training…" I was short, but in my state it was forgivable.

"With who?" Bemusement… I dislike bemusement.

"This!" I thumped the holocron down on the table and slumped over on the nearest couch. Before I go any further, it is important that you know how holocrons work. A Jedi holocron is typically a cube-shaped object, wrought from some crystal or another and bound in some flashy material. It can hold lots of yottabytes – not '**Yoda'**bytes, **'yotta**'bytes - of data, and even some Force impressions. The info is displayed in holograms and the interface is usually voice, but the Force is necessary to unlock a device in the first place. A gatekeeper is the AI if you will, that has a personality imprint from the creator of the device and works as a search engine if necessary. It can teach, and has the ability to grant or restrict access to certain knowledge. Basically holocrons are confusing, and can screw your brain real bad if you don't know what you are doing.

Master's surprise was expected, but I just didn't care, however Holocron Shan chose to stand up for herself. The innate object glowed blue, a hologram fizzled into existence, and the voice came on, "Master Gallia I see. Your Padawan of less than a week thinks highly of you…"

Master was a Councillor, so not many things surprised her, and apparently a this didn't really, "Yes, I do believe that's me. Pray tell, how you know this and who you are?"

The hologram straightened up and declared in a parade voice, "Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan, dead as of three and some thousand years ago."

I fell asleep shortly, and missed their conversation, but when Master shook me awake some hours later, she looked a tad bit flustered. "I see why you looked so worn out…" I got the impression of a rueful grin coming from the Force Bond, "And thank you by the way, Padawan…"

"For what?" Still a bit drowsy, and not at all rested, I could not fathom what on Coruscant she was going on about.

"For many things, for being cautious today, for acting more like a Jedi than many would, for your trust in me, for your respect…." I was still drawing blanks, "I had an enlightening discussion with the Holocron, not least about your emotions…" Oh that….

"So does that mean it is safe?"

"Hhyes, you can carry on your training with it… In fact, you would get further in your academic studies with its help."

* * *

Later that night, as I lay awake for some inscrutable reason – seriously, why whenever you need to sleep, you just can't – I pondered my long term plan. Now that I had two Masters, my training would go much faster. If I was lucky, I should be done by the end of the Clone Wars. The rest was like chess, or dejarick, I had to play my pieces just right, and everything would fit into place. There was a black hand moving the figurines from the shadows, so I would stick my own fingers in the game. It would all start in a few weeks' time, with my first pawn. An evil chuckle left my throat, I rolled over, and was blissfully asleep in seconds….

* * *

**Evil? No. Dramatic? Definitely not, but I have a few schemes going through this head of mine. Hopefully I explained everything so far, but well I guess I'll never know unless somebody tells me.**


	8. Chapter 8: The First Few Steps

**Well, I'm not dead yet, and here is the eighth chapter.**

**If you have looked on my profile, you will notice that I changed some things, namely I added links to covers on Picasa. The commentary links will soon be filled.**

**Also, may I ask my readers to help me out with a problem, namely that I don't know what to write next. Please go to the poll on my blog, or the one on this profile, and vote what one-shot I should write up next.**

**Thank You**

* * *

**Chapter 8: The First Few Moves**

Three weeks had passed since I found Satele Shan's holocron, and so many events took place in that time, that I can hardly believe my brain is still intact. Perhaps I should start off with the Radnor mission which arrived about eight days ago. The Jedi, Anakin, Darra, Ferus, Tru, and their respective masters were hustled away to the Jedi Council chamber immediately after debarking from their transport. Master Adi told me that they, and the other councillors, were surprised when she decided to change procedure and instead pulled a datapad from a sleeve and read out my report.

Needless to say, Master Windbag was not happy and demanded to know where that report came from. Also needless to say, he payed me a visit which consisted of useless shouting and evections that if I should dare to involve myself in the business of the Jedi, swift retribution would follow. I told him none too gently to get his purple-boxer-wearing arse out of my sight and to remember that I was a Jedi now. I spent the latter part of that day lurking in the series of secret passages that I discovered the other week and avoiding him like the plague.

My evil plan, involving Bardan Jusik, was moving along rather nicely. Over the last fifteen days or so I contrived to meet the kid on several occasions, sometimes returning a lightsaber that my own droids had stolen, at others dealing with a mysterious virus on his datapad. That's another thing I should probably mention, thanks to Anakin's initial instructions, and the tutelage that Jonson Shan – Satele's grandkid – left behind in the holocron when he built those chambers, I managed to subvert the entire Temple mainframe. I had control of security, transmissions, droids – you name it, and if it is electronic and linked to something, I could command it. I really don't know why Palpatine needed clones to wipe out the Jedi, a competent slicer might have done the job just as well, if not better.

So with _operation: Outrageous_ in full auto, I had nothing to do but train. And train I did. If I wasn't lifting rocks with Master Adi, clashing sabers with someone, or sitting in the flight simulator, I was learning new techniques from the _Shan Holocron_ as I had come to call it. Very soon I had absorbed the amount of Jedi skills a seven year old initiate would have, and my nights were often filled with memory transfers from inexperienced Padawans who could not shield properly or from the holocron itself.

At the present moment, I was rather miffed, hurried, overworked and a dozen other things. The mental stress from gaining so much knowledge in so short a time was taxing physically, and my physical exertions did not help matters. Nor was my mood, as despite the child's play that was the Temple's central computer system, the mission allocation and starship assignment subsystems were giving me a headache.

Somehow I managed to bypass the last security level on the MAC – mission allocation computer – and what I saw was discouraging. Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth had finalized the departure date for the Outbound Flight … which was tomorrow. And just like in the book, Kenobi was coming along. Oh I was not worried about them, Palpatine would make sure the Sith'ari would survive, I was however not happy with the loss of eighteen Jedi. I had nothing wrong with C'Baoth ending up in a metaphorical pine box, but I was losing potential allies.

Putting on my robe to look more dignified, I wrenched open a hidden trapdoor and dropped through to the dusty passage below. Here, in this labyrinthine network of stuffy halls and maintenance accesses I could cut my travel time to the Council Tower by half. And I could look more impressive too.

After verifying that no one was outside, I opened a section of pillar and stormed towards the turbolifts. No, I was not running; that would be unbefitting a Jedi, and a stormy Jedi at that, I was walking briskly, hands clasped in front of me, cloak billowing in my wake, and an expression practically saying, "I'll bite your head off if you get in my way!" plastered on my face.

The old doors to the Council chamber were shut as they were having a meeting, that however only made my entrance that much more dramatic. With a twitch of a finger the doors swung open and I barged in, stopping in the very middle of the floor. They were of course, not happy at the interruption, though Mace was more vocal than the others.

"I am here to save eighteen Jedi and fifty thousand civilians…" My voice held no mocking which might have been expected from my words, in fact, I was Jedi-calm. A rather blatant counterpoint to the greeting Master Windu gave me, to tell the truth.

"Explain…" Ki Adi Mundi demanded sternly. Seriously, I know they have to keep up appearances but could they not at least try to be civil? Maybe less Jedi would go bad if they were treated nicer?

"Outbound Flight," noises of enquiry circulated around the room, some more impatient than others, but I was going to handle this at my own pace. I might even see if I can embarrass them. "Am I correct in assuming that Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth will launch his project in under a fortnight?" Master Windu of course, gruffly asked me what that had to do with anything. "Out in Chiss space, the Outbound Flight will be intercepted by their Expeditionary Defence Force. What's that you are about to ask me? Who are Chiss? They are a species who make their home in the Unknown Regions. Blue skin, red eyes, strict military training... Probably the best organised military in this Galaxy."

"Believed I did, that the Chiss do not attack, unless attacked they are…" Quite an astute observation, I did not expect Yaddle would know of them.

"That is correct, Master Yaddle. Though the Sith Lord is sending an agent to rile up the leader of the expeditionary force, Mith'rawn'nuruodo. I believe he will be provoked by the arrogant actions of Master C'Baoth and—" I got no further, as several voices were raised in outrage, master Windu being the loudest.

"How dare you!" and "He is a Master!" were the words of the day, quite expected really. "On your heads be it," I had lost my patience, though not my calm, "The deaths of seventeen undeserving Jedi and almost fifty thousand crew and families." I spun around and walked out. If they are not going to listen to me, then why should I bother?

* * *

I was not happy. Of course I knew that getting involved in galactic affairs was a big mistake. I also knew that if I was to meddle with the natural order of things, I would not be able to change all the bad stuff. Still, the failure of my first attempt at saving the _Outbound Flight_ crew and Jedi stung, badly. It wasn't as much that I mourned the deaths to come, I was not aware of how that would make me feel, no what really made me unhappy was that I failed in a simple goal.

I needed to relieve stress, and I needed to start on my _project: Allegiance_ project. I swept out of the Temple's main entrance, not caring if anyone would notice my departure. Master Adi would understand.

Down the steps I went, and oh was it tiring, however when I reached Fellowship Plaza and looked up, my jaw fell open. There wasn't really any marvellous architecture, but the sheer grandeur made me speechless. I had seen skyscrapers before, going even up to fifty floors, but this. These were not skyscrapers, they were space scrapers. Buildings reaching for hundreds of meters into the sky! And then my more cynical part noted that the casualties would be horrendous were there to be an earthquake….

I crossed the plaza and let the Force guide me to a public transit stop. Then came a five minute wait, for once in my life, a bus arrived on schedule, and I hopped onto a route-Aurek 698 to the Uscru Entertainment district.

It should be noted, that despite my extensive knowledge of the EU, I was lost. Really lost… I had no idea how to get around Coruscant, and even less an idea of where everything was. I however, was grumpy, and thus did not think straight. On the other hand, I'll have to thank Master Satele for teaching me how to follow the Force's call more closely, for without that tugging on my mind, I would not have gotten far.

As it was, as soon as I got off the transport and took twenty steps, someone tried to jump me. He must have been an amateur, for I heard his foot slip on a nearby pile of junk. It was all the alert I needed. Instinctively I crouched down and snatched up my saberstaff. Momentarily forgetting that I could instead turn it on and cut the guy in half, I gripped the hilt as I would a baton and brought it swinging up into his outstretched forearm. I heard an ominous crack, I had broken either his radius or ulnar, which would account for him dropping his vibroblade and shrieking madly. My instincts were not done with him yet, in the next second I smashed the hilt across his Rodian snout further stunning him. Then, for good measure, I thwacked the hilt into his temple, letting him topple to the ground, unconscious.

The thrill of the scuffle now over, I could contemplate what I did. I had just defeated someone in a him-or-me fight. Thankfully, he was still alive, I was not ready to experience my first kill. I had no compunctions however, of ruffling through his pockets, and pilfering his comlink, vibroblade and credcoins. So now, five hundred credits richer, I was on my way to the weapons market.

Three more attempted robberies and I had a puny DL-18 blaster pistol, a backpack, some ruffian style ware and credits. Lots of credits. One of the guys how tried to mug me was just finishing up a day's work, and I liberated six thousand credits off him. So in total, my balance was at eight.

Like any underworld, Uscru's black market was immense. If fact, it rather reminded me of the usual enclosed markets from Earth. The warehouse was filled with stalls, and seedy visitors. I was rather glad that I hid my Jedi apparel hidden away safely, or every blaster in the place – and there were many – would have been aimed at me. Choosing the quiet approach for now, I singled out a smaller vendor and after some aggressive haggling got four EMP grenades, the same amount of CryoBans, six glops and a bunch of frags. Then, guessing that he owed a crime lord some money – they all do, you know – I threatened to bring the Quarren in unless he gave me ten flash-bangs, two thermal dets, and a DL-21 for free. Feeling rather smug, I swaggered off to a suspicious storehouse.

Cue the use of a thermal detonator to blast open a pipeline, then cue the theft of ten more grenades and a spectacular boom set on a two minute timer and I was out of there. My path took me to the Outlander where I hid in the crowds watching the podraces and thought and pondered my next actions.

An interesting thing about the Force, it only sometimes tells you what to do, but it does not tell you why to do it. In fact, it is rather like the Yuuzhan Vong slave seed, giving you positive and negative sensations according to your actions. Like playing hot and cold, only in the most dangerous underworld in the galaxy. I had made it here only through following where the Force led me, and doing what seemed more daring. The amount of ammo on me was enough to blow a Jedi Cruiser, but I had no idea what to do with it.

So, essentially resigning myself to some reckless and insane course of events, I let my eyes drift shut, cleared my mind, sort of like visualising a blank CMD window in Windows with the cursor blinking, and awaited the Force's call. Interestingly, this time text began to appear, something like "Nik\Brain: pay attention." Then some more incomprehensible lines scrolled through, and a video screen appeared, mind you, this was all in my mind's eye. Creepy huh? So on the vid, it showed a sniper scope like focusing thingamajig and it panned around the room before settling on two shady fellows at a corner booth.

Feeling slightly inapt as I had not learned how to use the Force to isolate sounds, I did it the old fashioned way and walked over to snoop. "I hear Thorgo is in some issues?" says Sleemo #1.

"Yea, the Pykes raided his supposedly secret storehouse…" I did not like the sneering tones of Sleemo #2, and was about to walk away when in my mind's eye again, the Force wrote, _'ERROR: STAY HERE…'_ Stay here, then stay here. "…So Thorgo is really antsy about now, says he wants to move to Ord Mantell, he's already shipped his spice operations there. Still got the base to clear."

The dealings of Hutts were not my concern, well I thought so. The Force however had other plans, and it kept on flashing a Boba Fett-in-action poster in my face. I thought for a minute, until I had a most ludicrous idea, I was supposed to storm the Hutt's base. For what purpose, I didn't know. Still, I learned the hard way that not following the will of the Force was a bad idea. And besides, a Hutt is bound to have money, and lots of it.

* * *

After some incredible luck, I nicked a speeder bike and made a rather inconspicuous way to the _Crimson Corridor_ and Thorgo's base. Kinda stupid, big neon letters declaring "THORGO"S PLACE" only in Aurebesh. It was obvious that the Hut was moving out, security was pathetic. I rode up, blasted all but one entrance shut, used the Force to smash open the gate, and strode in like I owned the place.

The crumpled metal knocked out the two piggies that guarded the door and I strode into the main audience chamber. First I ducked my head through the door to ascertain the situation, then I lobbed in two flash-bangs and while everyone was acting stupid, I followed up with three glops. Once the substance set, I walked in, blaster in hand, and pointed it at the rather small Hutt in the corner. "This is a hold up, give me all your cash!" Then, I reconsidered, "And don't forget the other currencies and credcards…" Since I don't know much Huttese, Wookieepedia again, I will not relate what I was told. The fat guy did mention though, that I would get into trouble for this. Sneering, I walked around, methodically knocking everyone out with my DL-21's butt.

I knew it was too easy. Apparently the gate I used was the back door, and thus few guards patrolled it. The rest of the base was a challenge though. At least sixty thugs. All wielding blasters and wanting to shot me with them. Why? What did I do? I was forced – not pun intended – to stun or knock them all out.

The barracks where the easiest. I tossed a coma gas grenade in the room and closed the door before they realised what was going on. And to, a score of people was safely out of the way. The hangar was next, where a CryoBan was useful, and ten point-blank stun shots. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, you throw in something to immobilize them, then walk from statue to statue with a blaster and pull the trigger. No aiming involved!

The real issue came near the vault. Fifteen mercs who looked slightly less dishevelled than the rest of the rabble. Here I got into a protracted fire fight. Please note, I used up my entire ammo supply in that fight, and all my non-lethal ordinance, and still, seven guys where still standing. Really, I do NOT know what possessed me to draw my saberstaff, set it to training intensity, and charge in.

Five minutes later, it was over. I had half a dozen blaster grazes all over me, but at least I returned the favour with my saber and at least they were all knocked out. I was rather proud of myself, I was not seriously injured, and no-one got killed. After looting the vaults, did I ever mention that a lightsaber is my new best friend? It can cut through locks no problem! So yes, I nicked a good six hundred thousand credits in various currencies and bullion, loaded it all onto a cargo skiff, and flew off to the hidden hangar I had discovered.

It was all too easy, as I had said. Two attempts to take over the cargo skiff and that's it. It should be harder to rob a crime lord, or be a Jedi for that matter. Well, I guess I had more than my fair share of beginner's luck.

* * *

Suffice it to say, Master Adi was not pleased with my state when I arrived. "You look like a nexu after a fight with an Ackley in a trash compactor!" I looked into a mirror, and was forced to agree. I was not wearing my Jedi apparel, the swoop biker's outfit crossed with a mercenary's poor attempt at shopping was torn and burned, well everywhere. My hair was sweat-slicked, my face had a bruise or two, I was covered in residual goo and soot from my grenades, and the few blaster shots actually numbered over a score and a half, and a few had penetrated deeper than what would feel comfortable. I was so going to lodge a complaint with the Force. Strange though, how I didn't feel anything. Though, it might have been a blessing in disguise, as otherwise I would not have been able to function properly.

So, the next forty minutes where spent by cleaning up, and by Master dumbing a few gallons of bacta on my various wounds. Which of course, did not come without a good deal of admonishments.

As I lay all bandaged up on a couch, Master Adi sat down across from me, and demanded, "What possessed you to go gallivanting around the undercity?"

"Well, I guess the Force wanted me to. And I needed to knock something out after the Council session…" And well, I related a good portion of my adventures, though I skipped the part about the credits.

Surprisingly, Master Adi chose to ask me what I knew about _Outbound Flight_. Seeing as I knew she'd listen, I related the events of the book, complete with Darth Sidious' conversations. My retelling took a good two hours as I included as much detail as possible, at the end of which I was near ready to nod off and Master was livid. When she discovered that she was unable to speak verbally, she mentally hissed,

"That … that man! And he's a Jedi Master? How did we not notice that!" To that, my answer was that the Jedi were complacent. However I was still puzzled, why was Adi Gallia siding with me so much? I heard she was fiercely loyal to the Order, and I honestly wasn't the model Padawan. Choosing to believe that it was because of the extensive training link, I ignored all other implications and decided to go with the flow. After all, I was not fully in command of my destiny here. There were higher powers at work. "—Have you even heard a single word I said Padawan?" Her voice was more amused than annoyed. I shook my head in the negative, with a sigh, Master Adi restated her offer "Is there anything I can help with?"

It was a good question, for one thing, I needed to visit Kamino sometime very soon. Then, I wanted to get in touch with Jango Fett so that he could teach me how to kick butt without being a Jedi, kind of like what Jaina went through with the Mandos in LotF. But something gave me the impression that my Master was not asking about that, but about the _Outbound Flight_ in particular. And there was the difficulty. I had no means of stopping the project, nor of stopping Palpatine's messenger, but I could not let all those Jedi just die so ignobly. Then I remembered about Clawdites, and I felt truly evil.

"Say Master," I began in a cheery, sing-song voice, "Do you think you could incapacitate Master C'Baoth for forty eight hours or so?" She looked at me, well I don't know, in a 'are you bonkers?' fashion and well, I guess I did sound like that. "No, here's what we can do. If we remove a Jorus C'Baoth, then he cannot antagonise everyone. We hire a Clawdite to impersonate him for the departure, but then he'll disembark. True the expedition will be left without a leader, but they can handle it I think, maybe," here I had a moment of inspiration, "We tell them to find a Zonama Sekot and settle down! Yeah, that should clear them out of the Chiss and the Trade Federation's path!"

Adi Gallia exuded dubiety in the Force, and asked me where I was going to get the funds. Oh well, I knew those credits would come in useful sooner or later. With that plan settled, I went to bed, schemes hovering just out of my reach.

* * *

**Well, that's that. Hope it ain't to repetitive, but I am trying to emphasise the point that Nik is not trying to ruin everything.**

**Anyway, more to come in the future,**

**May the Fiction Be With You ~~CC-645**

Clean word count: 3,652 | Total clean word count: around 28,535 | Updated 02/25/13 0251 PT


	9. Chapter 9: A Good Day's Work

**Chapter 9: A Good Day's Work**

When a normal person sleeps without dreams, they do not remember the happenings of the night. To them, it is as if no time has passed while they were oblivious to the outside world. With Force-Sensitives – who I am a part of – things are trickier. In essence, those of us with the gift of Farsight rarely have a night without dreams. Others less attuned to intricacies of the Force often have vague sensations, replays of memories or just peaceful dreams of gardens and woods. Oftentimes alert Force users remember the world in muted form while at rest. If they put enough effort into trying, they can recollect sounds, smells, Force presences and even some visual content.

With me, my nights – ahem dreams – were full of memory transfers. Sometimes I would peak into the minds of younglings or young Padawans in order to relive their classes, at others I would absorb knowledge from the Shan Holocron or even Master Gallia. The tricky situation was that 'Force' and 'Easy' should never be used on the same page unless as contradictions. I could not transfer just the knowledge that I needed; no I got the full .zip file so to speak. I would experience fights, arguments, censures, bad smells and even back itches. It was a tossup between knowledge and extra experiences which were not often pleasant.

You might think that I had it easy; after all, what could be cooler than ending up in one's fandom and learning how to move boxes with one's thoughts? Nothing I'll bet, not at least to you, sitting there nicely in your comfy quarters, with no inkling of what _real life_ is like here. I had to awaken at the crack of dawn, fall asleep at something far too close to midnight for comfort, train until my limbs felt like they were about to fall off, and learn and learn and learn! Anything from astrocartography to mechanics to flight simulation to Force manipulation and other languages and histories! It was such a drag. Not only was it physically taxing, but mentally as well.

The human mind was only designed with one lifetime in mind, not several, especially not from several people and several species. The hardest memory transfers were from say the Togruta which I sometimes underwent to get the extra perceptions from their passive echolocation or the Wookiees to obtain knowledge of Shyriiwook. My point is that even with my precautions, I needed to rest my mind on occasion, not have it bombarded by someone's life.

This was such an occasion, and I was contentedly enjoying the bliss of actual, plain sleep, when a disturbance arose. The blackness in my inner eye began to fade into a stone cavern with suspended walkways crisscrossing the chasm while surrounded by greenery. I recognised this mindscape as one of Qui Gon Jinn's favourite haunts, it appealed to his love of nature and pathetic life forms. Speaking of whom, there was the man himself, hair dishevelled and tunics haphazardly belted. How he could appear so in a vision was beyond me, it wasn't as if he actually _ran_ anywhere.

"Did…" he panted once he got into hearing range of me, "Did you see the latest _Clone Wars_?" My first that was that of WTH, quickly followed by the realisation that he could read and watch materials from Earth. A feeling of grumpiness came swiftly on the heels of that thought, of course I could not have seen that episode, I was here not there. I told the man as much, leaving him slightly put off. "Yes, I've forgotten about that…. They've just aired the finale for _Season Five_. You **must** watch it!"

"Master Qui-Gon, the HoloNet is not exactly airing CN programs… I have no way to watch…" I reaffirmed my previous statement, though I was rather intrigued as to what could ruffle Master Jinn of all people. Surely they didn't just go and kill off his Padawan again, or have _another_ Force-sensitive planet show up?

With an impatient wave of his hand he summoned an illusion of a fifty inch flat screen TV which flickered to life and shone the yellow logo before me. The audio cut in just as the amoral moral faded into view, reading "Sometimes even the smallest doubt can shake the greatest belief."

It was the hallmark of the show to insert the most ridiculous of quotes, quotes that very rarely had any bearing on the episode, and this one was no different. In this instalment, the Temple got bombed – I'd have to stay clear of that hangar – the show ripped off CSI and the bad-guy was caught rather easily. I looked at Master Qui-Gon – it may interest you to know that I began to respect him a little more after a few other encounters – and was about to ask him what he meant by this; there was no profound knowledge or wisdom imparted, but he just shook his head, waved his hand, and set the television to fast-forward through the credits and the opening reel.

I should say that this, next, episode was much more interesting, especially the chase. Star Wars was always action for me, not romance, not emotions, but action. This had lots of it, and it was impressive. I for one did not know that you could block this type of stun blasts with a lightsaber, I thought that you had to avoid them physically. But no, now I know if I ever need this information.

Tarkin was a vile wretch, Letta Turmond was annoying, I felt rather sorry for Ahsoka, and Anakin struck me as far too close to _Revenge of the Sith_ for comfort. Funny too, how no-one seemed to consider that Ahsoka never once fought back against the clones, not even a Force-shove. Pity that she lost her shoto, and that Anakin was so … I don't even know how to put it… It was good that Ahsoka didn't come with him, because it would take just one suggestion from Palpatine, and Ahsoka would be back in prison, and thus speedily assassinated.

The third episode showed me just how weak the Jedi were. Plo Koon, the very man – Kel Dor – who found Ahsoka, who knew her perhaps better than anyone save Anakin, began believing in her guilt after finding her slumped in a room with crates of nanodroids. Never mind her lightsaber-less state, her beat-up condition, the hole in the ceiling, as well as the obvious signs of a lightsaber battle the floor above. It felt to me like they were looking, but pretending not to, for a scapegoat onto whom to pile the responsibility from the beginning of the war all the way to their forthcoming demise. It sickened me.

I was about to tell Qui-Gon that I got the message and was about to depart in a huff when he shushed me once more and skipped to the next episode. Being titled _'The Wrong Jedi'_ it was rather obvious as to what would transpire; Ahsoka would be proven guiltless, the only tossup being as to whether that would happen before her execution. I already had a culprit in mind as I began to watch the episode; it was just a matter of following the evidence.

My insight served me well as Barriss Offee was indeed this week's villain, though the writers sure did do a better job with it that what I would have expected. Anakin did a fine job provoking her into a fight; but her confession before the court was just too contrived. She could have just shouted, "I'm being framed! It's Ahsoka!" and the truly horrifying part was that they would have believed her.

No wonder public opinion was swinging against the Jedi; mine was plummeting. How could they expel her for funding! For funding! I know they are Jedi, but instead of throwing one of their own to the wolves, could they not have robbed a bank? …Or a Hutt, like I did? Her departure was emotional, the first in for me in the series, but I could not help thinking that it served them right. Still, I was not the only shadowy character that was out there, manipulating and plotting. I could make this suit my ends, oh I could….

I turned to Master Qui-Gon with a genuine question, "Master, are you sure this is valid; the Jedi can be ruthless at times, but this seems beyond this day and age? And do you have any particulars for me?" I mean, he could have showed me this as a dream, he did not have to _come_ in person for this….

"Take the girl as your Padawan Learner. Don't let Yoda give her to Skywalker. Unless he changes his attitude – and I frankly do not see that happening any time soon – their team will never truly work."

Of all the harebrained ideas born in that man's head, this one sure takes the cake, big time! "Master Qui-Gon?" I managed to maintain a civil air, but by incredulity poured forth in torrents, "I am a PA-DA-WAN! At best guess I'll make Knight by seventeen _before Yavin_, I can understand you asking your Padawan taking on an apprentice, he killed a Sith; but I have NOT! By war's start I will have barely had a solo mission, I cannot be expected to be responsible for a student!" as my agitation began to mount, I forced myself to calm down and take an emotional step back, "Look, I have a plan in the works, I can take her in after she leaves the Temple, make her my CO or something, but I'll need you to do something for me, okay?"

My interlocutor raised an inquisitive eyebrow, which I somehow saw, and nodded as if to say, _"Go On…" _probably expecting me to say something ridiculous, oh like, I don't know, asking him to reveal the secret behind defeating Master Yoda in a duel. Nope, my request was just as outrageous, but still doable. "Master Qui-Gon, I will need you to guide the _Outbound Flight_ to a safe haven inside the Unknown regions, preferably Zonama Sekot…."

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, I did so rested and with a lighter heart; those people were safe. Not so a certain Jedi Master, today was the day for _Operation: Jomark_. Actually, I've lied to you, today was the day for many things, and I would probably spend a good part of it rushing hither and thither, doing this and that.

First thing's first, I used the Force to toss my thermal blanket off my bed …or tried to anyway. In so doing I had it fall on my legs, tangling up and generally being a nuisance. Formless or extremely flexible objects such as clothing or water take a lot more skill in telekinesis to accurately manipulate, skill which I did not quite have. Resigning to the old-fashion way of getting out of bed, I disentangled myself, stretched, gave the obligatory yawn and threw myself into my morning ritual.

I was out as usual, hair dripping, and the sad excuse for a beard gone as the sun crested the horizon and shone through the windows. I adopted this particular habit shortly after my apprenticeship began. After a particularly restless night I ventured out into the living room and saw the sun's rays illuminate the apartment in a most spectacular display. From that moment on I understood Master Qui-Gon's fascinations with Coruscanti sunrises and sunsets.

Master Adi joined me shortly and after a solemn vigil until the sun cleared the tallest spacescraper in our line of sight we turned away to a slightly more hurried than usual breakfast. During the meal we went over the plan; I would _disguise_ myself and head into the undercity to hire the services of a Clawdite, Master Adi would enlist the aid of her former apprentice, we would _deal_ with Master C'Baoth and then he would find himself in a nice estate on Jomark, ironic I think, considering how his clone chose to take up that residence.

* * *

I was on my way to the Archives when chance caused me to meet Aeren. He looked rather fresh, but really bored with everything, and he looked rather green. His greeting nearly made me choke on my laughter for it consisted of a most peculiar dialect, "Good morning Nik. Time long, see no, hmm? Doing how are you?"

At first I thought he was being dramatic, but after a snort on my part his Force signature darkened in embarrassment. I chose to insert some levity, laughing never hurt no body – not yet anyway. "So, I see Master Yaddle was not the ideal instructor for you, least not language wise…"

"Right you have that, mate. It is hard to speak normally. Revert I do to her speech patterns. I don't want to know what happen will if spend more time with her I do…" I chuckled again and clapped him on a shoulder, casually inviting him to follow me. Our conversation was rather amusing, seeing as he would say one sentence in proper Basic and the next in Yoda-Speak. We talked of many things, of my adventure, of training, of our Masters, of everything pretty much.

Apparently his training was not progressing as well as mine; his master trying to impart the particulars of Jedi philosophy and the Code while mine took the more direct approach. He at one point confided in me that he hadn't even activated his lightsaber, not even once. I felt sorry for him, but there was nothing I could do. Master Yaddle was a kind but stern Master who expected obedience, in fact, Aeren was at this very moment on his way to the comm centre with a message cube that needed a relay.

We parted ways as he went off on his errand and I walked down the aisle of the Lost Twenty to a computer terminal and imputed a planetary request. Our plan, my Master's and mine, was to drop Jorus C'Baoth on one of the uninhabited islands, it was exile, unlawful exile, but at least it was better than what he would get if he stayed with his pet project.

It was here that Obi-Wan Kenobi found me three hours later. With a briskness that was characteristic of him when he was in a serious mood he ordered me to "Please come with me, Padawan," adding that, "We need to talk…" I had no wish to start a scene, and I wanted to end up in his good graces, so I saved the star chart I was perusing and vacated the terminal.

He led me down some tributary corridors that took us to an out-of-the-way conversation garden wherein he ceiled the door and reaffirmed his statement that we needed to talk. "Please continue, Master Kenobi," I invited with more confidence than I felt, what could he want?

"I have given great thought to your words, Nik, and I am inclined to agree with several of your statements …but not all. You have stated that I possess too much guilt to adequately perform as a Jedi. I will not cover this with rhetoric, that was out … of … line."

Now I began to feel guilty, but as luck would have it though, my brain was preoccupied, so my tongue ran rampant without check. "What was I supposed to do?" Despite that, I was composed, my experience at school had given me an almost Jedi-like composure, at least outwardly, so Master Adi did not have to work on that. "I have a stressful day, after which I then find myself out of my element, literally speaking, and in a world which I read as fictitious. Terrible things will happen in the future, it is in motion as Master Yoda often says, but a hand is manipulating events to suit its vile purposes. Chaos will soon descend upon the galaxy, and the Dark Side shall unfurl its banner. I was unsettled to be tossed to the Tu'kata in this time. For if what I saw before me was real, than so was everything else. I have seen terrible things… terrible things… Orders fallen… families torn asunder… planets destroyed in one fell swoop… I would have preferred to live my life here in peace, on a quiet farm on Dantooine, not burdened with the duty to serve the galaxy. But the Force apparently has a grudge against me, I found myself in a position which forced my hand, which put my foot in it. I was set a mission, I would leave the Galaxy-saving to the real heroes, but I would have to work from behind the scenes. I would have to place those heroes in the optimal positions to do their jobs…."

Obi-Wan emanated sadness as I trailed off. I guess he could understand the intricacies of unbearable burdens. "Something happens in the future," he stated more than asked, albeit gently, "Something with me and Anakin in the middle of it. Something which I was not able to deal with adequately from a bystander's perspective…"

I nodded in ascent, "You stuck to the Code, to rigidity when you should have taken the unconventional route, and in the end, it caused you pain. Do not change who you are; you are a noble, selfless, and dutiful Jedi, you will be regarded as of the most renowned Masters of the Council for your wisdom and dedication. Do not let that be tarnished, but to not seek to brush away every speck of dust on your tunics. Be gentler with Anakin, a time will come when you will be like brothers, but he will still resent firm control. He needs to be understood, not lectured, from one perspective, the Jedi are right; emotions are bad, but not with everyone. Moderation is the key, and you will master it one day. Trust yourself more, that's all I ask, trust yourself more…."

We sat there for an indeterminate amount of time until the silence was broken by the chime of my comlink, "Nik November-niner actual, go ahead…" It was a carryover from audio dramas which I wrote back in the day, I liked the military comm chatter style, and would often annoy people to no end with 'wilco' other obscure terminology. Master Adi did not mind,

"Nik, it's Adi, I've got the third party secured, stage two is a go—" before I could acknowledge the channel went dead. Well, I guess it was time for me to do something productive. Excusing myself I walked out of the garden, checked that no one was looking, and pulled forth a datapad with the Temple's floor plan. Whatever Force skills I had learned, they did nothing to aid in my navigation of this perpetual maze.

* * *

Donning a black robe and gloves set aside for me by Master Adi in a predetermined location, I used one of the secret side doors to exit the premises and make my way to one of the numerous portals into the underworld. A large freight hovertruck was my rather scary way to level twenty-sixty-eight where I had discovered, lurked a Clawdite by the name of Ephash, some relation or another to Zam Wessel.

Finding an empty booth in the Basaliskan Barrel, a squat establishment quite suited to its name, I waited for Bounty Hunter to show up. Speaking of whom, there he was, in his full ugly glory.

"I hear you are looking for a changeling? We cost a lot, Director, how much are you willing to pay?" What a slimy fellow! Now let's get things sorted, _'Director'_ was my alias which I came up with on the spot, cheap, cheesy, but effective and efficient. Now for the scary Sith act, I just loved impersonating Palpatine when I had the chance.

"Credits are of no concern for me. I just need results. My clients want there to be a _change_ in the crew roster for Outbound Flight… Your task is to assume the form of Jorus C'Baoth and put Lorana Jinzler in command of the mission until Yaga Minor, where you will disembark and forget all about this little adventure…." I inserted a dark chuckle at the end, and flashed an evil grin rather that he caught it from beneath my deep cowl.

"Impersonating a Jedi! No, I am not taking that job!" All was transpiring as I had predicted, the job I was offering was risky, and getting involved with Jedi was usually a _baaad_ idea. Fortunately I had a few things literally up my sleeve.

"And how would two hundred _thousand_ credits change your mind? Especially if I added a million more after completion? Does that sound acceptable?" Of course it did, in fact it was outrageous, but greed motivates….

"Tell me more…" the rather slimy character asked, leaning forward in eagerness, with the amount of money I was _offering_ he could retire easily.

I cackled in delight and evil triumph, this underworld boss thing was beginning to suit me more and more, "You will have a comlink on you at all times through which your handler will contact you. You are to follow their every instruction to … the … letter. Any deviation will result in your immediate disclosure to the Jedi. Any attempt to profit beyond this contract will result in your speedy termination. And I am sure you would not want the Black Sun to know about _that…._"

Needless to say, he mulled over my offer and then accepted it. It was the best he was going to get, and whatever he was antsy about concerning Black Sun persuaded him to cooperate. After a nod of ascent on his part I chuckled evilly, handed him his mission details and the two hundred that I stole from Thorgo and departed after making sure that the coming beacon I planted on him with the Force was secure and active.

"Director to Executive Producer, stage two – green across the board, first take. Going back to the studio…" I whispered into my comlink on my way out, looking all mysterious like….

* * *

The sun was half done setting when I returned to our apartments. Dinner was ready and Master Adi was emanating a sense of accomplishment, "How was it being a criminal?" she asked me lightly as she dusted a bookshelf.

"Oh, splendid! I believe I scared the banthas out of him, I didn't know he was in that much trouble with Black Sun. I should really do this more often!" I chuckled some more as I hung my cloak over by the door. In all honesty, I had no idea whether he was at all connected with any crime syndicate, but lowlifes low on the food chain are easy to manipulate. It is a wonder what a mind can conjure if allowed to roam freely, just give it a starting boost and it will join the dots all on its own and create a problem where none exists.

"That's good, because I've just gotten Siri to go aboard the _Flight_ as the handler for your man. Everything is going according to plan…" she finished her cleaning and waved over a tray from the oven, piled with tonight's steaming dinner.

Between mouthfuls of delicious dinner I contemplated the morality of our actions, second-guessed myself more than once, worried over the plan, possible ramifications and the cause of Tatooine's orbital bombardment by the Rakata, basically doing what I accused Obi-Wan of. Funny how your words come back to nip you in the backside, uh?

"Hyes, I did…" Master Adi chuckled in response to another of my worry-induced questions, "I accomplished _stage three_. Master C'Baoth took his tea this afternoon. His Force-sense will be dulled until morning. Stop worrying, it never helps! _'Keep your mind on the present moment, where it belongs_.' Qui-Gon was a wise man…."

Feeling rather in need of a topic change I asked my Master a question, something that had been nagging at me for a good deal of time. "Master, remember when I had a shouting match with Master Qui-Gon?" she replied with an affirmative ahuh so I continued, "Well, he told me that day that Obi-Wan was his kid …is that in any way true?"

Adi Gallia burst into hearty laughter. It took her a good five minutes to quieten down and use to Force to dislodge a piece of dinner she nearly choked on. "Obi-Wan Jinn? You've got much to learn my _very_ young Padawan learner!" I stared at her uncomprehending, until it clicked, but I still wanted her to say it. "That was as much a load of rubbish as when he told Obi-Wan that Dooku was his uncle! That man comes up with the most ridiculous of statements and inappropriate practical jokes! Like when he said the Force was because of midi-whatsies!"

I could not help but to join in, I always found Qui-Gon's explanation of the Force to be ludicrous. And the image of the regal Count Dooku being Obi-Wan's uncle just made me burst out laughing even more. I could understand Qui-Gon's statement from a certain point of view, but it was a nasty trick to play on unsuspecting, poor, me.

* * *

At roughly twenty-three hundred hours I finished with my preparatory catnap, pulled a towel over my nose and mouth, donned my previous attire in the form of a cowled cloak, gloves and boots – all in the same black – and clipped a flash-bang on my belt. I was just about to leave the apartment when Master Adi stopped me. "You should take this…" she said, proffering her lightsaber.

I was rather surprised, I had my own weapon, though I dearly hoped I would not need to use it. In any sort of duel with anyone who knew what they were doing – and Jorus C'Baoth certainly did – I was, let's face it, dead. "Why?" I inquired, why was she giving me hers?

"This hilt has a red crystal. I stopped using it when the Sith resurfaced, but never threw it away." I guess my EU knowledge slipped on that occasion, it was a brilliant idea, and I should have thought about it myself. Master Adi raised her hand in a Jedi salute and with the words, "May the Force be with you, Padawan…" she waved open the door, and stage four of _Operation: Jomark_ was a go.

It was humanly – and dare I say it, Yodaly – impossible to memorise the Temple's entire network of hidden passages, maintenance closets and ducks, laundry chutes, ventilation tunnels and all manner of under-the-hood byways. One could, if they devoted enough time to it, commit to memory the layout of the main floors, hangars, accommodation sectors and gardens, in fact many Jedi did so over their lives, but even the Grand Master did not know every nook and cranny that there was. I was certainly no exception. As embarrassing as it might sound to those of you who believe that a suddenly Force-sensitive earthling is omnipotent and omniscient, I was using the Shan Holocron to navigate the twisting network while enduring the Gatekeeper's endless wit – all at my expense of course.

Upon reaching my destination, a corridor down which C'Baoth's quarters were located, I used my rather floppy knowledge to sense out any Force Signatures nearby. Seeing as how this was the Temple, they had no reason to hide their presences, but just in case I endured more of the Gatekeeper's taunting for the sake of her doing a check. All being clear I popped the floor tile with the Force, put it back in place, inconspicuously dialled down the hallway lights, and stalked towards the proper door. Double, triple, and quadruple checking that this was the proper door; I did not want there to be a case of mistaken identity, I ripped off the lock plate, crossed two wires and voila! It unlocked!

Being a rather strange fella, Jorus C'Baoth's apartment was unlike most Knight accommodations in that it had only one sleeping chamber; apparently his apprentice, Jinzler, slept elsewhere. That was fortunate, as I had forgotten to account for her presence, if she had been in here, my plan would have went down the pipelines, and fast. Upon verifying that I could open the door from the inside, I let it slide shut behind me, made sure my disguise was all set, and used a Force-Push to bend the bedroom door in on its hinges.

Like any self-respecting warrior, Jorus was up, lightsaber in hand, and scanning the room for intruders. The only problem was that thanks to Master Gallia's tea party, the old man stumbled, fumbled, and nearly fell over a few times. Feeling evil, I chose to add insult to possible injury by clapping mockingly and rasping out in what I hoped was a suitably Sith voice, "So this is the great Jedi Master, C'Baoth. If that's what the Jedi are made of, I have nothing to fear…. ha-ha-ha-ha!"

He wasn't all that happy, drawing himself up to his full height and activating his blade, though it shook in his hand. "Who dares intrude into my sanctum? Who dares to speak so of the mighty Jedi Order?"

"Mighty? Old man, your hands are shaking, you are no match for me!" I chuckled projecting full confidence, though I was secretly relieved, "…But if you must call me something, you can address me as … Geekeuis, Darth Geekeuis, but off course you will address me as Lord. Got that?"

C'Baoth was in utter outrage, his mouth opened and closed, his lightsaber shook – though I suspected it had more to do with the sedative more than rage. He spluttered something incoherent and charged at me in something not even resembling a lightsaber form. His first attack I stepped aside, having him nearly fall onto the floor. His second I blocked in the nick of time by activating the red lightsaber previously concealed in my sleeve.

In his moment of wide-eyed shock I struck, it was Djem So in its pure, Forceless form. My swing battered his blade aside as if it were a straw held by a mannequin. He tried to repost but I blocked the poor excuse at a slash, twisted my wrist just so, and saw his blade extinguish and the hilt clatter to the floor.

With my blade's crimson tip less than an inch from his chin he began to backpedal, then mustered a Force-push that sent me skidding into the dresser and hitting by elbow on an edge. I swore, a word you youngsters should not know, and thought of removing an appendage just in case, but then I chased that thought away. That was what I called the Dark Side, needless anger, if you could do something without it, don't use it.

I practiced a telekinetic blast of my own that sent the old man thumbing into the opposite wall, though not hard enough to knock him out. I sighed theatrically and walked over to him. I would have to do this the old fashioned way. A little bit of gloating and my saber's pommel connected with his temple, dropping him into unconsciousness. I was almost done.

Another scan of the apartment's surroundings led me to believe that the coast was clear, and hoisting the man under his armpits I dragged him outside. Beep it he was heavy, really heavy. I got tired two meters outside the door. I would never reach my original entrance point. Then I heard a dreaded sound, footsteps echoing down a nearby passage.

Feeling rather panicked I did a stupid thing by levitating the entrance tile and giving C'Baoth a Force shove that had him reach the hole and tumble in. I sincerely hope he did not break anything, even if he is a jerk.

I had just enough time to put the cover back in place when a Jedi Knight or Master – didn't catch who exactly it was – saw me. I don't know what he saw in me, but he immediately demanded that I stand down. Maybe tinkering with a lock panel had something to do with his reaction? I had to improvise, and fast.

Fortunately I at times was probably the third most reckless Jedi in the GFFA – make that the Galaxy close, close by – and had no problem smashing the door of its hinges. The Knight of course raced to me, but I was already in the apartment, slashing everything in my sight, especially the bed. I could not let evidence remain that it was slept in.

By the time I had done a number on the room, and collected the fallen lightsaber, two Temple Guards had joined my original pursuer, which was far too fast for any reasonable response time. Taking a leaf from Anakin's book, I sliced an x into the wall and blew it open with another Force Push. By now other residents began converging on the scene of chaos, and I was in deep faecal matter. Really deep faecal matter….

I was a good sprinter, it would take only four seconds to reach the intersection, and by extension, safety. The crimp in my plan was Force Speed, a technique which I did not know, but one that most of the people here probably did. Then I remembered a deleted scene from RotS and a lesson Master Adi taught me just before I set out on my mission.

Arming the flash-bang with one hand I charged out into the corridor, only in the wrong direction from my safe exit vector. A graceful pivot had me turning away from the source of the flash and beginning to cut a hole in the floor with my red blade. In the few seconds of blindness in which even Jedi were confused, I used C'Baoth's lightsaber to aid in cutting a hole in the floor and running away, this time in the proper direction.

When the merry party could see again, they were met with a hole in the floor, a possible bolthole. Unsurprisingly, half of them jumped down it. Equally as expected, the other half looked in my direction and ran toward me. I turned to face them, in so doing covering the tile I was lifting with the Force from their view.

Knowing freedom was seconds away I threw them a jaunty salute, yelled "So long Jedi!" and released a Force-Flash. They were more prepared, but still, it delayed them for a few seconds. That was all the time I needed to slip into the hidden passage and set the tile back in its place. I sat there for a few minutes getting my breath back, when I judged myself as clear, I resumed my arduous task of dragging the limp body back to an area close to our quarters. "Master, stage four is accomplished…" I reported over my comlink, "Stage five is a go…."

* * *

**So, I sit one day and think, and I have come to the realistic conclusion that I will not be able to post all of the stories I have plots for on this web site. Real life is well, real life, and I cannot dwell in cyberspace indefinitely. In realising this, have begun to combine various plot points into other stories. For instance, Nik was not supposed to have been able to get material from Earth.  
**

**Don't worry, I am still writing here, in fact it might interest some of you to know that I am beginning to write the sequel for _Skyfighter: The Ones_. **

**Anyways, this is it for know, May the Fiction Be With You!**Clean word count: 5,830 | Updated 3.09.13


	10. Chapter 10: Oh, that black-robed figure!

**Funny, but for the first time in all the years (two) that I have been writing, I have had an instance of Writer's Block for the this chapter. Hope the wait was not that long.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Oh, _that_ black-robed Figure!  
**

As dawn rolled over Coruscant, plans were afoot. Or, more accurately, the final stage for _Operation: Jomark_ was about to commence. Late last night a Council meeting was called, and Master Adi returned only around three in the morning, completely tired. I had done a clean sweep of things apparently, as the investigators did not come up with anything, no DNA traces, no forgotten tools, no nothing really, save the empty flash-bang canister.

The official story was that the hallway incident was a drill, no need to alarm the Temple populous, but unofficially, the story was that a Dark Side agent, possibly the Sith Apprentice, had made an assassination attempt on Jorus C'Baoth – most probably in order to halt the _Outbound Flight_. Fortunately by a fluke of the Force, said Jedi Master was spending the night at a different residence and thus out of harm's way. Strangely, no one could get hold of C'Baoth … I wonder why?

Rather ironically, Master Adi was assigned to the investigation, Mace's argument being that if the Sith were involved, they would be more careless with an inexperienced Padawan on their case, namely me. Personally I think, he just wanted to get rid of me, quiet like.

Whatever the case, it served our purposes and before too long we had requisitioned a dilapidated YV-100 light freighter. It was relatively low cost, had a _Class-3_ hyperdrive and rather week weaponry. In short, it fit with our mission portfolio of being a below average Master-Apprentice team. No one would suspect … that is, suspect that we were Forcibly exiling a Jedi Master. Some ingenious packing had Jorus C'Baoth stored alongside our supplies in a storage crate, which, among others, I loaded as _an exercise in telekinesis_, yeah right.

Although ideally the ship should have been manned by three beings, two did just fine, and seeing as how I was on the comms while Master Adi actually flew, we did rather well. As the airspace above the galactic capital was no place for flight training, I did not have to be involved, but transits between our hyperjumps and course-correction stops were my responsibility. Adi would show me the controls and call out directions and I would act like a drunken mynock traversing space from one jump point to another.

Once such stop was near Shulstine V, a shadowport on the Perlemian. I would have flown it fine had it not been for a comm from Coruscant. Five minutes of avoiding traffic while frantically looking for the blasted comm panel were rewarded by Master Adi's gentle reminder. It could have come sooner though, in my oh so humble opinion. "Director, this is Screenwriter."

_Operation: Jomark_ was in its entirety codenamed after a filming setup, I was the Director, Adi Gallia was the Producer, Siri Tachi, our agent in the field, was the Screenwriter, and the Lead Man was the Clawdite. "Screenwriter, this is Director, go ahead…" I finally uttered when everything was under control.

"Director, Screenplay. We have lights and cameras. Lead Man passed mustard and is cooperating with the plot. We will have action in ten, so far it's green across the board." Master Adi told me during one of our jumps that Knight Siri was rather confused with the mission code, but it came out alright. Though I was not really fool enough to believe that any worthwhile snoops would mistake this conversation for a holodrama shoot.

"Screenwriter, Director. Rodger that. Drop a text when you exit the Colonies if all goes according to plan. Hopefully you will be able to disembark somewhere on the Entralla Route. You must, I repeat, must, get off before Yaga Minor." Indeed, no need for Palpatine to know of my meddling, is there?

"Wilco, Director. Screenwriter over and out." The comm shut off with a hiss and a click, and everything was going according to plan. Orienting the freighter towards Centares I pulled back on the hyperdrive levers knowing that now I could travel with fewer realspace stops. We jumped, and before us lay another twelve hour hop.

* * *

"Centares, the last 'civilised' stop on the Perlemian. Your typical border world…." I introduced magnanimously as I took the YV-100 out of hyperspace. There was nothing noteworthy on this world, save for the fact it stood on the intersection of the Perlemian and Triellus Trade Routes. If we turned 'right' here and went two thirds of the way to Sy Myrth we would be level with Jomark, our end goal.

During our latest jump the time was spent in rest, restless fretting over the _Outbound Flight_ situation and of course, in training. Being nearly fifty metres in length, the YV had vast cargo holds, which, being empty, served just fine as training modules. Let me tell you, it is not fun clinging one-handed to a support beam while deflecting shots from four remotes while your Master indulges in a pillow fight, slightly forgetting that plasteel crates aren't pillows. If you are ever tempted to use a Force Nexus to travel into the Jedi World, my advice to ou is, don't.

"Padawan," Master Adi mused aloud at a most inopportune time, "We have not created a backstory, have we?" Oh bugger! How could I forget that little detail? So we drop C'Baoth off on his nice new holiday home, but what do we tell the Council? Where are the Sith?

"Aaahm…" I had nothing really to say, "Ahaaammm…" Nope, still nothing, "Maybe Trogan?" I ventured tentatively. "Tourist attraction, smuggler's hive… We could, I don't know, pretend that the flash-bang led us to there … … and we saw a black-robed figure!" that cheeriness was so false, truthfully, this once again proves that you should think ahead before you act.

"And the Council is going to buy that, right…." sarcasm? Master, you astound me by the day! "Oh and don't forget to mention that said black robed figure yelled 'come and get me, Jedi' while waving a flag…."

This banter carried us all the way to Jomark, which just might have been a curse more than a blessing. Once we reached the backwater, and pretended to be a family on a cargo run, the sole air controller gave us free reign and we touched down on one of the more hospitable islands in the southern hemisphere.

We had let off our _passenger_ when he began exhibiting signs of wakefulness, and I redressed in my evil get-up to explain the situation to him. Of course, he had a Force suppressor injected in his bloodstream to avoid any injury on my part. "Welcomer Jedi…" I sneered as best as I could, which was not all that hard.

"How dare you I say!" was his rather unwise exclamation, his voice suggested more lucidity than would be expected in his condition, or maybe not; for if I was a _real_ Sith, he would have had a black eye right about now.

"You are in no position to talk. Now listen up, I'm only saying this once." I hit an imaginary button on my equally as imaginary gauntlet and gave my Master a Force-nudge to drop the cargo lift. As the rusty pistons began to screech, I continued. "If I kill you outright, your pals will sense it, and I don't want that. I am leaving you enough supplies for you to establish a nice vacation home here, make sure it's pretty, 'cause you will be staying here for a long time … a very long time…."

Through the combination of a cargo quick-release system and the use of yet more telekinesis I offloaded the rest of the crates, hopped aboard the transport and jauntily saluted the bumbling figure of Jorus C'Baoth with my lightsaber, "You're gonna need your Force, Jedi! Stay sane!" Another mental prod and the repulsors activated, the ship gained altitude, and _Operation: Jomark_ was a resounding success.

* * *

The Force has one ironic sense of humour, one that I'd rather not endure. As per the plan, Master Adi and I flew the ship to Trogan. As per the plan we stopped to refuel and get some information. That was where the whole thing derailed. Starting with the docking bay fees…. We had run into a 'dead end' and were just going to pay the port authority for our use of the landing area and leave when we discovered that our way was barred by a Solar Sailor. A Geonosian Solar Sailor….

Now of course that meant nothing to Master Adi, she did not know what I did. And I, well suffice it to say that after hours of excruciating work in GIMP with that particular ship, I knew it as Count Dooku's private craft. "Here's our black-robed Sith" I muttered morosely at the sight. Questions of course followed, which I answered with the story of how _"Darth Tyranus—"_ who was a pupil of Yoda's _"—betrayed and murdered the good man that was the Serenno Count."_ In short, the Council, nor even my own teacher, needed to know about this … yet.

And so a wild Bantha chase ensued, tapcaf to tapcaf, storehouse to storehouse, street corner to street corner, we shadowed him. He – Dooku I mean – chose to keep his Force-abilities hidden for the time being, I guess so as to not alert Coruscant of his misdemeanours, so shadowing him was not particularly hard.

Thanks to a pilfered holocam we recorded a certain clandestine meeting between a cowled Dooku and a Whiphid. The recording was made in the docks where wind whistled in cracks, machinery grumbled and metal clanged, making for rather convenient interference. In actuality the mercenary was tasked with collecting some 'volatile cargo' from a nearby planet, but some doctoring of the audio track made it sound like Dooku was using the Whiphid as a messenger. But all that was in the future, in the present moment Dooku handed off some credits and strode away, leaving us to ponder what to do.

"Master, should we?" there was no particular reason for us to go after the merc, but cargo pickups ordered by Sith lords seemed to be a good place to check up on.

"Follow him you mean? I think yes." Then after a brief pause, "Whatever he is up to, it can't be legal." I had to agree with that, so without further ado we tailed the poor wretch to his ship, tossed a homing beacon on the hull, and took our YV into orbit.

Rhen Var was the Whiphid's end destination, and a more retched ice-cube could not be found anywhere this side of the Hydian. I did tell Master Adi this, but she told me not to worry. Naturally at that exact moment a thud echoed in the hold, the control yoke shook beneath my hands and the comm system sputtered to life with a gravelly voice on the other end.

"Jeeediii… It will do you more good if you surrender now. The bucket you are on will never escape me, and let's face it, better taken alive than decimated into protons and electrons other this system. My Lord has use for you…."

One thing I've learned from real life just as much as from novels and movies was that your typical bad guy cannot resist a good gloating session. They should really learn to talk less. Maybe then they can actually succeed with their plans for galactic domination. While our host was jabbering on, I figured that this was a trap – _no shit Sherlock_ – and that we were trapped in Rhen Var's gravity well with the Whiphid's ship cutting off our escape route.

The first order of business was to flip on the shields, which I did quicker than I would have thought, and to attempt evasive action. No one was surprised when the merc cut his triumphant rant short to start on a new tack; "Sooo, this is how you want to play, Jeeediii, your loss…." His first shot missed, but his second clipped the edge of our ventral shields. The situation was not good. I could barely shoot straight, and now I had to pilot a freighter with no piloting experience whatsoever. And what was much worse, I was responsible for the lives of two beings, one them myself. And I was not even a legal adult for crying out loud!

I was about to ask Master Adi to take over piloting but as I turned my head in the direction where she was supposed to be, there was no-one there! I saw the tip of a brown robe disappear in the direction of the fire control station and muttered a vulgar mix of Huttese and Mando'a that would make most frequenters of Tatooine gag. I was alone, and the cannons on this bucket could only fire front, Fierfek!

With no other choice, I closed my eyes, relaxed, relinquished conscious control of my extremities and let the Force get me out of this situation. Ultimately _it_ got me into this situation, so _it_ would have to get me out.

Maybe I was wrong when I said that the Force was like a CMD window in Windows. There was no black screen in my mind's eye, no blinking white cursor, no text mysteriously appearing. I don't know what drove me to that conclusion in the first place, maybe it was my aptitude with ICT, or more likely it was one of Qui-Gon's practical jokes. No matter, the _real_ experience was different. My perceptions increased tenfold. My reaction time became nearly inhuman, and the flood of knowledge that washed over me— well it was overwhelming to say the least.

I guess it could be described as having an instant Google Search at your disposal but without the inherent complications in the need to actually locate and decipher the needed answer. For instance, when the need arose for me to locate the controls for the prow manoeuvring jets, all it took was one thought and my hands were guided to the activation levers.

That was not all however. I could also search the Force for the most likely outcomes for my actions, for stray thoughts from our pursuer, and even for insight and guidance. Had there been a non-Force-sensitive observer they would have seem my hands flying over the controls, evading laser fire with apparent ease and even outmanoeuvring the hostile why-vee-six-six-six on our tail.

This clarity of thought would not last however, I was a novice at all this Force thing and could not maintain such a pure connection for any prolonged period of time. Just as we settled behind our attacker's craft, the _real_ world rushed back to me, leaving me with only my wits and what knowledge I managed to gain in the Force Awareness state.

Master Adi began firing as soon as she had a clear line of sight on the hunter-turned-prey's ship and did a much better job of it, clipping one of the stabilizer fins in the process. The Whiphid chose to take offense at us for firing on him and jerked to the side in efforts to come about but I stayed with him. Being Jedi we were mandated to deal with situations peacefully, which quite often took more time, like now. It would have been child's play for a Jedi Master to hit one of the engines and overload the power system which would result in a big boom, but no, we were obliged to force him down. At least we would be able to question him….

"CorEngCorp Yirt-Vev-six-six-six freighter," I spoke into the comm upon miraculously finding the mic toggle, "This is Jedi transport _Force's Folly_, I am in no mood for the usual surrender speech, so land and power down or you are getting vaped, right now. Do you read?"

Sadly, the moment of distraction cost me, the guy was able to loop around and get on my rear. "_Folly,_ your name suits you…" he managed to get another shot on our ventral shields, reducing them to seventy per cent, but that only let me hit the overdrive, flip my ship on the side and fly towards him, head-to-head.

This game of 'who blinks first?' or 'Space Chicken' was familiar to me through many EU sources, and I was confident that I could do it in real life. Being _confident_ would not really be grounds to do something extremely dangerous, for though I may invent reckless plans at times, they are always thought out, but this time I gave the excuse of there being no apparent choice.

Space was filled with red lances of energy between our two onrushing ships as we both diverted spare power to front shields and eagerly awaited the other's mistake. As the distance closed to less than two kilometres the intercom began to whistle shrilly and demand my attention. Master Adi was not amused, really not amused. "You better now what you're doing, Padawan. I do have unfinished business in the living world you know…."

"No worries Master!" was my cheerful response as I saw the silhouette of my adversary in his cockpit. I waited just a second longer and reached for the Force again. Again it enveloped me in the flood of knowledge. In painfully slow-motion I saw the Whiphid's hands jerk his control column to the right – my right – and frantically try to accelerate away from me. The time was now. My left hand shot out and yanked hard on the throttle controls sending the drives into full reverse as my on-hand jerked the yoke down and lammed an entire row of manoeuvring jets. Our ship came about and after a quick switchover sped after the troublesome YV-666.

Master Adi nailed the other stabilizer as he, and we, skimmed Rhen Var's outer atmosphere giving me hope yet that we might catch this creep. He led us on a merry chase toward the terminator and on one occasion slipped behind me disabling our ventral shields entirely but I retaliated by letting Master Adi shear off his entire starboard stabilizer.

After that the situation ought to have been resolved but he was stubborn and I was overconfident in the abilities of my own ship to hold together. At a most inopportune moment, above a rather wicked-looking mountain range my drives cut out. So letting the Whiphid get away, and cursing profusely, I slammed on the repulsors and attempted to land gently.

_Attempted _was just the perfect verb for the situation and _gently_ was not to be at all as even the repulsors began to whine in preparation for total failure. It sucked. We were twenty meters in the air with no repulsors. A quick brainstorming session later I diverted all power to the dorsal shields as the ventrals were inoperable, flipped us upside-down and dropped us into a deep-looking snowdrift.

The trick worked, the shields absorbed the kinetic energy behind our fall, and the snow cushioned what was left, but we were … ahem … wrong-side-up. Some groans and cursing later, two grumpy Jedi dropped from the _floor_ onto the _ceiling_ and made their way to the boarding ramp.

"What a nice place to visit!" I pronounced sarcastically as the blizzard through a bunch of snow in my face. "It's just like Hoth!"

"Did we pack cold weather gear?" Master Adi had to shout to be heard over the howling winds even though I was nary a meter away.

"No! 'Fraid not! And it looks like the entire power system's caput. I can't say much while it's dark though! We'll have to find somewhere to stay until morning and come check over the ship later."

"I agree Padawan! There are some ruins not that far away, do you know anything about this place?"

"Rhen Var's a world with significance to the Jedi. It was the place of Ulic Qel-Droma's exile and subsequent death! Those ruins are most likely his Jedi Tomb. Should be safe for Light-Siders!"

No further conversation was required to my great relief. I hammered down the ramp with my saberstaff and hid my freezing hands in my sleeves. Tombs of Force-Users were an ill omen usually, but I could not care less in this climate. He was a Jedi after all… right?

By some extremely fortuitous circumstances we crash-landed some three-hundred meters away from the ruins, but even so it took us a good half an hour to get to them. The gates, when we got there, were open invitingly, which would have raised both mine and Adi's suspicious were we not almost frozen, and as soon as we passed the threshold they grumbled shut. Only then did we exchange a concerned thought, but we really had no-where to go but forward.

The entrance hall led to a peculiar chamber off of which ran other, smaller passageways. It again reminded me of Moria, but I again ignored the similarities and began looking for a place to settle down for the night. And then Master Adi did something foolish. She stepped out of the circular chamber.

Barely had she taken three steps away from the arc when a ghostly voice, which I did not recognise, echoed in the vaulted ceilings. "Welcome Jedi…" With those words previously concealed doors began shutting off the arches. I was just about to begin thinking straight wen the floor beneath be began to lower and the voice repeated, "Welcome young Jedi…."

* * *

**Well, that's the end to _Operation: Jomark_ and the beginning to the Rhen Var adventure. I hope I cleared things up with the Force and wrote the dogfight reasonably well, and that the _Outbound Flight_ situation was explained succinctly and understandably. **

**There's a poll on my profile asking about what one-shot you wish to see next, and I have somethingalmost ready to post for April Fool's Day. Also, I like my schedule of two chapters a month for this story and will stick with it from now on. **

**Public thanks go to _"rancorlover"_ and _"peijey"_ for subscribing to this story this month.**

**And to everyone out there you are welcome to RSS me, follow, fav, comment or nag me on Twitter NikStalwart.**

**May the Fiction Be With Us All!**

Clean word count: 3,572 | Updated: 3/29/13 PT.


	11. Chapter 11: Testing Ground

**Chapter 11: Testing Ground  
**

§My first reaction was to swear; though I may have been apprenticed to Master Adi for nary a few months, I had come to respect her as a teacher, and as a friend. The former possibility was non-existent in my previous life, and the latter was a scarce occurrence, but I somehow did. Despite my bluster to the contrary, the Jedi Way made for some admirable character traits. I guess it might have been a side effect of my Force Syphon and subsequent advanced Master-Apprentice bond, but I had come to rely on her, not in the least because I was, for the most part, a clueless teen with an extremely lethal _Hasbro_ toy.

I did not utter the profanity however, for two simple reasons: Aurek, I was not physically hurt – yet – and Besh, tombs with ghostly voices generally try to test you, and this being a _Jedi_ installation, I somehow doubted that I was being tested for the size of my vulgar vocabulary. I forced (small 'F' younglings,) to think of this as a precursor to my Ilum adventure. Yes I had a functioning weapon, but if the Galaxy kept up with the status quo, I would lose it very soon. I gave it a solid two years of life, which in my opinion is extraordinarily optimistic.

Now, I was not a bookworm for nothing – just a note, I did not spend all my time researching the EU; I would oftentimes go on a fifteen K run for exercise and read then. So, back to point, having read a significant number of books on the military, I had some basic ideas. Expanding as much of my barely-trained awareness as I could and holding Master Adi's plain lightsaber in what I guessed was a suitably cautious on-guard position, I stalked the perimeter of the room, alternating between checking for threats in the centre of the room and on the walls.

Having done three circuits and determined that there most probably was something there, but if it wanted to kill me, it would have done so already, I began to spiral in towards the chamber's centre, giving a good look to the floor as I went.

I was never one for superstition; kept a clear head and worked with logic, and I did pay attention to my gut feelings, but I **never** put stock in signs – unless they were traffic sings that is. What I did take stock in, were stereotypes. When you are in a tomb, a disembodied voice welcomes you, and you get separated from you companion(s), chances are that either they or you are being tested.

Also, if you have not been killed yet, or if there was not a convincing effort to kill you, chances were that the place – or its guardian – or AI – or whatever – did not wish you dead – yet. The 'yet' part was often the tricky part; but here you had to look at things like statues, colour schemes, glyphs and all manner of details. Needless to say, monstrous monsters and One-Ring-style runes were generally not used by good guys, also needless to say, that an ancient Jedi Council starburst would not be used by Sith just for you. Equally as needless, if you were in a plain room with no nothing, and said starburst had a circular centre that differed in pattern from its surroundings, you were meant to step on it.

All precautions taken care of, i.e. heavy object thrown, Force-push used, cloak thrown, leap through centre of room, you get the picture, walked over and stood on the lift plate myself. Nothing happened. I was still alive and in the same room. I guess automatic doors were a stretch at the time of this tomb's construction. A directed Force-nudge, straight below me started the platform on its decent.

§The _elevator_ ride was not all that long, I would guess at roughly fifteen meters, and surprisingly uneventful. Or maybe it was just my attitude. I was not a pessimist by nature, no, but I had this attitude: _find three things that were bad, are bad, or can be bad. Then consider the bright side_. It never failed me to date, not once. Overcaution was better than a pine box, by parsecs.

Three steps off the lift plate and a door slammed shut behind me, nice. Something reminded me of _Empire Strikes Back_ with the unseen guide, the eerie feeling and the peculiar red glow cast on the walls by my borrowed blade. For all you geeky fan-boys and giggling fan-girls: you might think that a saberstaff "just LIKE DARTH**MAUL!**" is the best and coolest weapon out there, boy have I got a reality check for you. _Best_ and _coolest_ are often two very different things. If I tried to wield that ungainly monstrosity in this confined space, I would not have to worry about laser bolts or my funeral pyre; I would cave the whole thing in.

Now, enough of that lecture! Twenty meters of gently curving corridor later, I sensed that I was approaching an open cavern. My telekinesis was about as perfect as my Trench Run score, but I nevertheless snapped on a glowrod and sent it floating into the room before me.

"There is no need of that here…." The voice was measured, but different. It was one that I knew, the voice of Saruman, and Dooku. Apparently wannabe Sith take delight in letting you figure things out on your own, for I only had the time to make the connection when my mental grip was broken by a stronger will than my own and the device was sent hurtling into the shadows. Then, almost on cue, floodlights illuminated the chamber.

It reminded me of the reactor chamber in Theed, though minus the reactors and plus several IG-100 MagnaGuards and two squadfulls of BX droid commandos. Now I knew this was a trick; such droids had not even entered Dooku's imagination, and well, let's face it, why face the chance of me escaping when a canister of nerve gas could have done your job? This was of little reassurance, Lumiya's phantoms, and Sith Shades – Shadows – wraiths – whatever- could inflict real damage. Maybe if I didn't know this much crap I would not be so antsy and instead be a brash geek with a shiny toilet-paper roll and an ego the size of Iego, and nothing would faze me. Alas I was far too sensible for that.

"Why draw that lightsaber young one? Can't we have a civilized discussion? Let's see, what if—" I was not in the mood for the standard 'rule the universe' speech, and I was freezing my rear off. The sooner I finished with these tests or whatever they were, I could get to a warmer place and off this ice cube.

"Look Dooku, let's cut the usual rhetoric where you tell me how you can offer me unimaginable power and can rule ya-da-ya-da-ya and I tell you to shove it because I am a Jedi. Instead let me ask you a question, you Sith always seek to rule the Galaxy, but have you ever considered how much paperwork that is? Signing execution warrants, ordering tax audits, holding court, presiding at banquets and overseeing parades? It's hard work, work that I'd rather not do. I'd rather gallivant along the Hydian, rob a few Neimoidians, blow some osik up, you know? So at risk of sounding cliché, there ain't much that you can offer me that I can't get. So get spaced buddy…"

There is one redeeming quality to speeches; they are an equal distraction no matter who is going on. In this case, while my sweetest dreams were coming to fruition, I hand discretely grabbed hold of the DL-18 tucked behind a tabard.

"No, there is nothing I can offer you? What about…" he paused dramatically, "…the chance to go back to your world…." Sometimes I think that apart from having the stereotypical evil laugh, bad guys come in _extremely stupid_, _extremely arrogant_, _brain-dead_, or all three at once. It was probably the Jedi Order's fault that its members joined the Dork Side, as the recruiting campaign was just lame.

"Let's leave alone for a second that you are a Sith, and thus what you say is subject to be a falsehood of a sort on mere principle, let's forget that it's in my job description to slice you into tiny pieces, and let's ignore the hardware which should not be around for at least seven more years. Okay, why should I want to go back? Yes I have a family back home, but I am quite looking forward to smashing people into walls, choking them, throwing them off buildings and blowing crap up. Sorry Count, you're out of luck…."

Really, all I wanted to say to him was to get spaced, but that would not have accomplished anything. Those seconds of pointlessly extravagant rebuttal gave me the opportunity to mark the positions of the droid commandos. Upon saying 'luck' I let out a rudimentary Force-wave, dropped to one knee and fired off a handful of shots. I did not wait to see if I hit anything, I would find out when they chose to attack me, instead I rolled across the bridge, ducked up near an outcropping of stone and snapped off another volley.

Dooku serenely walked off into another room, letting is metal boys deal with me and shutting both doors. One of the MagnaGuards came up in front of me, something I could not fathom; they could easily overwhelm me, but they did not. The droid jabbed at me with his electrostaff, slower than he should have, and I was able to dodge. He came at me again, but this time trying to confuse me by whirling that thing as fast as his mechanical limbs could. I chose to do something stupid, as in I thrust my ignited saberstaff into the whirling disk of electrostaff and glowing electricity pulsors. Being made of phrik alloy, the saber's blade did not cut the shaft, instead swinging me off the ground. I guess that's where Master Adi's lightsaber came in.

Activating the crimson blade I plunged it vertically through the IG's head, neck and torso, jerking it inside just to be sure. And then I landed on the stone floor with an undignified thump. I … am … not … doing that … again. The whole thing took just a few seconds, and it seemed like a good first go, but I had a score of other droids to deal with, droids that started up shooting conveniently after I got my breathe back.

Time for ridiculous plan number two…. I snapped off a handful more shots while I got my gear back in place and found where the liquid cable launcher was on my belt. Then I _pocketed_ my blaster, grabbed the electrostaff under an arm, took out and armed an EMP in my other hand, and trusting the Force for no apparent reason – and showing extreme stupidity – I leapt from my bridge, straight into the middle of the commando formation.

I landed far too lightly in a three point crouch, released the grenade and the pin, fumbled for the cable launcher and shot the barb into the ceiling's centre. Then I leapt away, the EMP's charge just reaching the tail end of my cloak.

I thwacked feet first into the opposite wall, milliseconds after the blaster fire and thought that I needed to dumb something. I was never good at it, but I threw the electrostaff javelin-style onto the bridge where the MagnaGuards stood. They dodged it, of course, but the stone began to crack beneath them. Meanwhile I pushed off towards the closed door, and upon reaching it, sliced a furrow in the stone with my shorter lightsaber.

I did that three more times, swinging this way and that across the room to bounce against the door and slice open one side or another. My final jump was hear-razing though, I was five meters away when one of the BXs computed to blast the anchor to which my cable was attached. Thank the Force for momentum, or should I thank Inertia? Whatever it was, physics carried me the remaining distance and with enough force to dislodge the stone plug in the door. As a parting shot I tossed a concussion grenade into the room behind me and ran along the corridor to find the next room and be over and done with it.

§ It was not a conventional door which I passed. Nay, it was more like a veil of darkness, and upon passing through it, I was greeted with a lobby to the Supreme Chancellor's office. Somewhere around the corner I heard the sizzle of a lightsaber and the crackle of Force Lightening. More telling was the shaggy haired, synth-leather clad form of a certain person we all know that gave me the place and time for this little party.

"Anakin! Oh! I'm too weak! Too weak! …I can't hold on any longer! Uh…oh!" I wonder, if I was to do that when Yoda was thwacking me with his gimer stick, would Anakin go all yellow-eyed on him too? Maybe I should try it once, in front of the Council perhaps?

I seriously doubted I just got kicked forward through time, if I have learned anything over the course of my life, it would be that nothing is ever easy. "…Heee's the traitor!" reached my ears. Mace was going to lose a hand very soon.

I figured it was a test but the thing was, I haven't had time to look that far ahead. I had no idea in what to do were I faced with this situation, let alone what the proper answer would be to this test. Then a thought struck me. I crouched down, made sure my target was in sight, began building up a Force-push and leapt up and forward.

I barrelled shoulder-first into Anakin's back just as he activated his saber. For added effect I released my push milliseconds before impact. Caught unawares, he tumbled, tottered, fumbled his lightsaber and had it cleanly slice wrinkle-face from shoulder to groin.

§ I would have expected to land on the floor and have an earful about killing his favourite pops, but the Force has no decency; I landed in a crouch on an unfamiliar landscape entirely. Clad in tans and browns, not to mention the white beard I felt somehow on my chin, I was the epitome of a wise geezer – ahem – Jedi Master.

"Master!" called a youngling's voice. As I focused my attention, I noticed that a little human girl – not more than five, and clad in Initiate attire – was the one to ask me. "Master, what is _really_ the Dark Side?"

_Osik! Poodoo! Fierfek! _And whatever other word is applicable to this situation. How in the Galaxy did I have to end up answering _this_ question? How? Was there some conspiracy group tasked with making life awkward for me? I did not know the answer to that question for myself, how could I answer a kid? And why was I even needed to answer a kid? Especially since the view outside the window was a far cry from Coruscant – more like a forest from back home.

"Well young one, I am sure they would have covered it in your classes, but for me, the Dark Side is when people act like utter Di'kut…" oh osik, I should not … be … doing thisss! "…For me it's when one person thinks he is better than everyone else, when he thinks everyone else should bow before him, when he does not earn the right to rule others, when he thinks he has the right to tell me what to do. Also, it's when caring turns into possessiveness, jealousy and all that Bantha shavit. It's when morals get spaced for wealth or privilege. It's definitely when he blows a planet up because he does not like it, or when he goes choking people left and right…."

"But Master, what about when you ordered a Base Delta Zero on Geo-Geo-Geonowziz? Or when you dismembered that fiction author who wrote an 'Adult Story' about one of your friends from the war?" Oh Sith-infested Mustafar! What else am I not being told? I begin to feel sorry for the poor lass, and not about my language. Still, a Delta Zero on the bugs? You'd have to miff me off real bad, but I'd do it… And good heavens, 'Adult Story'! I know what she is talking about, but she should not know the meaning of that phrase.

"I did, and I would do both of those again. It's as I've said, you can zap someone with lightening, as long as you don't run whining to your mommy that someone zapped you in return. Fairness is a point of view, but the way I see it, if you don't want to be shot in the stomach and dumped in a ditch; don't do it yourself. Revenge, that's another matter. Just make sure to not let it consume your entire life, and to not take more than what was taken from you. For me, all I need to be a Jedi is to be moral, to care, to protect me and mine, and to have honour, integrity and above all, use my brains, not my posterior." That would be an impressive speech by my standards, and half of it; I didn't know where I got it, but it sounded fine.

"Oh I see…" a pause, "…and what about Daala?"

"What about her?"

"You shot her…" Really? Not that surprising actually, I've wanted to do that ever since I've read FOTJ.

"When?"

"You told us it was after she left for the Maw on assignment from Tarkin. Verpine shatter rifle, fifty meters, through the forehead."

Oh dear Force, do these kids think me a monster. No wait, why do I sense pride in her? "Natasi Daala was a dangerous person. And power-hungry. She tried to oppress the Jedi, froze some in carbotine, blockaded the Temple, and caused me to sit on my hands and curse for three books waiting for Kenth Hamner to get killed. That's reason enough for me, not counting the fact that her Mandos offed a perfectly normal Padawan, she didn't let the StealthX wing launch thus leading to the whole mess with the occupation of Coruscant ya-da-ya-da-ya and she exiled Luke Skywalker. Need I say more?"

"Master, can you teach me to shoot a Verpine shatter rifle? Please?" The walls were too far away for my purposes, so I resorted to banging my forehead with my saberstaff … repeatedly.

§ The scene changed, and this time I was walking along a long corridor to an indeterminate destination. All around me floated ghostly, well, ghosts, interspersed with _windows_ into distant events. In one I saw the ancient battlefields of the Mandalorian Wars, in another the devastation on Ruusan. I saw glimpses of the rise and fall of Empires and Lords, of Naga Sadow and Exar Kun. And the further I walked, the more recent the images got.

Soon I was walking by the window through which I saw Yaddle's imprisonment, the Rise of Darth Plagueis, things like the Mando Civil War and how Darth Sidious fell off a fresher. I came to witness my own arrival on Nanth'ri and the beginning of my apprenticeship…. All too soon I strolled past the events on Radnor and saw that Siri debark the _Outbound Flight_ and hand the Clawdite over to the authorities. As I entered the future, I witnessed many debates with the Council, my exasperation when Poof tried to use a mind trick on me to get me to stop saving his life. I saw my speeder cornered by CSF while Poof got himself killed. Many events took place, and for many of them, I was too late. Thankfully, guilt did not gnaw at me for my _failures_. Yeah right, like I failed. I was not Di'kut enough to think that saving the Galaxy's shebse was my responsibility, on the contrary, the only rear I was looking out for was my own, and perhaps Anakin so that I did not have to deal with his whining. I tried, they ignored me, Poof died. Not my bloody fault, end of story.

With that encouraging thought, the hallway ended and I stepped into an octagonal room. Seriously, what is it with circle-based room designs? Predictably, the door slammed shut behind me, leaving me in darkness. It did not stay so for long however, pillars of Light, I am Light as in a near-physical manifestation of the Force's Light Side, illuminated the chamber and the seven pedestals set just inward and at the centre of each wall.

"_As with any who are judged,  
Reward for you is not begrudged.  
Make a choice, you will young one,  
Lay your clam, and all is done!"_

Don't you just love it when ghostly voices speak in rhymes, and do so cryptically? I don't. It stinks of … well … a setup. I highly doubt that whatever was left here was intended as a freebie for me. _All that is gained must be earned._ And I have some serious doubts that I earned sudden immortality or invincibility. Come to think of it, a crystal which will make my lightsaber cut through things across the Galaxy or one that will make me thrice as powerful as Anakin does not count.

Just to set the record straight; I was not refusing these power-ups on principle, I just was being pragmatic. I know it's a different world entirely, but what if it's like with the Ring? What if I claim one of these gems and then start going around yellow-eyed, or worse?

The pedestals were located around the room's circumference, each holding a glowing gem and each illuminated by a spotlight of Force energy. Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true; the exhibit on my left, in an out-of-the-way corner, did not seem to be so ostentatious. The jewel on it was plainer, and whereas its fellows shone brightly, this one had a tiny spark of light at its core. It's stand was plain stone, no engraving too, and roughhewn. Evidently the humbler gift.

I searched the room a dozen times over and could not find an exit, and the original door, dare I say it, wold not yield to my lightsaber. I began to get peeved. It reminded me of one of those horrible ads you get on the web, you know, how when you are running Windows 7, it shows you an XP dialogue box and proudly declares that as the page's '99th visitor' or some other osik, you have one some extraordinarily expensive bit of hardware. This mess was a perfect representation of that, even no "no" button, very authentic.

"Your offer is appreciated, but I wish to respectfully decline!" I addressed the air around me. The air did not answer. I was about to repeat myself when the pillars winked at me, cycled on and off all round the circle, and then one of them began blinking in Morse Code. "TOO BAD" it said, "PICK ONE".

I spent another half an hour trying to get out and lamenting my lack of breaching explosives, but such was my lot I guess. I decided to check what the freebies were. I would walk up to a stand, and the pillar would blink out the 'labels'. It went like this, from my right and counter-clockwise: "THE STONE OF KNOWLEDGE", "THE STONE OF INFINITE LOYALTY", "…OF INVINCIBILITY", "…OF IMMORTALITY", "…OF INFALIBILITY" and "THE STONE OF SPACE-TIME TRAVEL". The final, seventh one, had no tag as I already observed, and seemed withdrawn and out of place here.

"What is that?" I asked the others, genuinely curious.

The _Knowledge_ tag answered me, "IT IS BUT AN ILUM GEM FORGOTTEN BY A MASTER OF OLD, IT HOLDS NO POWER. UNFITTING FOR IT TO STAY IN THIS CHAMBER" Really, that was a stupid thing to say, surely they must know, I am not ambitious enough to pick any of the Power Gems? Or maybe that's the point, mask the most dangerous one and then have me fool myself into thinking it was the safest?

My deliberations lasted until my stomach growled, then, remembering that Master Adi was somewhere above, and probably experiencing some concern for my wellbeing, I chose to collect the 'harmless' one and be done with it. The way I heard it, these things went by intentions as much as by the thing you chose; I don't care if that passive stone was the detonator switch for the Galaxy to implode, I was picking it for other reasons.

As soon I lifted it in my telekinetic grasp – I was not so amateur as to touch it straight away – it began to glow with a blue radiance somehow more brilliant than that of all the other gems combined. I let it settle on my open palm after a minute, and I began to feel warmer. Curious, I fiddled mentally with it, and on command it glowed brighter or dimmer. This was not just an Ilum crystal, it was a Jedi flashlight. With a satisfied nod I stepped onto the centre of the chamber and proclaimed, "I have made my choice as you bade me…."

The Force warmed with approval and a sense of pride and the all-too-familiar lift platform took me up one storey to another circular room, much more spacious, and oddly resembling the one from which I started.

"You have passed my tests, Sunrider..." I spun around to face the speaker, and it was here where the Force proved itself useful for once by pointing him out as Ulic Qel-Droma. "I say you bare your name well…." Praise? After I took up his almost-wife's name? I did not expect that from a Sith Lord, albeit former. "Your guess about the crystal is correct; it is both a source of light and warmth, something not many would cherish when presented with other alternatives."

"Master Qel-Droma, I see you have joined the dead-Jedi-who-want-to-harass-me club. "

"You're lucky that Revan wasn't your welcoming committee. He's been trying to get in and give you pointers on fashion and galactic domination. And say thanks twice that Satele is as stubborn as Bastila or you would have gotten a royal lecture on double-sided lightsabers and kidnapping Jedi Masters."

"Please tell me you have something useful to share with me Ulic, your fancy phantoms took a lot out of me, just in case you did not know…."

"Useful? I've got useful. You're an idiot!" I was offended, it was a 'look who's talking' moment, "You're an idiot if you judge everyone's character by what was portrayed in the books. I'm actually glad you did not yet get the chance to read the _Jedi Apprentice_ series or you would have screwed up even worse than you did with five Jedi Quest books." It stopped being of wonder that those dead Jedi knew about all that stuff, I just listened, "You should just forget about personalities and stick with continuity. I've cleaned up the mess you made with Kenobi, but I won't do it again. You should seriously trust your instincts over books. You knew he was not that pessimistic 'the Galaxy is my fault' person, and I have a serious score to settle with those who infected you with that Bantha dung. Revan and I told Qui-Gon that you should be told, he did not listen, and now we went mopping up your mess…."

Now that was interesting, Ulic's far more straightforward than anyone I've talked to from the Blue Club. "Explain, buddy…."

"You want to know? I'll tell you, the only reason the Force has interfered is because it had enough with being used for Sith domination. It chose to throw a hydrospanner into the works. And the reason you are said hydrospanner, is that you are the only person with enough knowledge not to look stupid, no ambition, and no desire to find Tano or another female Padawan and indulge in that which you so despise among modern-day authors, namely shameless intimate interaction. So yes, you are the only Force-Sensitive person from your planet with your head screwed on straight. Make you feel better?"

Actually, that did make me feel better. Much better… I always thought myself saner than most of the male populous of my age, glad to hear that was not just ego and pride.

Now, if I was to be a destabilizing influence for the Sith, with no galaxy-saving goal, Ulic, you've made my day.

"Well, glad to hear that," he answered upon pilfering my thoughts, "You better get on with your Kamino plan. They will be tossing out an entire legion in a two months' time, you better not be late."

"Thanks Master Qel-Droma," I bowed in gratefulness and respect, and opened my eyes to the sight of Master Adi leaning over me.

"Padawan," came the exasperated voice, "What did you do now?"

* * *

**Longo chapter, but I had to cover the Dark Side, and Ulic's revelations made me smile. Our hero can't remain permanently in the dark, can he?**

**I regret to say, that I actually messed up with the Obi-Wan side of things. I wrote about him after reading _Jedi Quest_ and fan fictions portraying him in the "my fault" wya and I guess I just did not watch what I was writing. Obi-Wan Kenobi is NOT, I repeat NOT a self-blaming retard, and I will fix that as I did in this chapter. From the movies, he was a courageous warrior who felt sadness, but did his duty, and that is who he is, not a moping di'kut. I've just read JQ 6: The Moment of truth, and I officially declare it out of my canon. Very few elements will be used in this story. On that note, I am inclined to dump most of the EU, for me, the only 'real' books are Tim Zahn's and maybe the RCs.**

**Enough. **

**Next chapter is an interlude, told from the Temple, and in a few more chapters's time, there will be another one where the 'Blue Club' will discuss things.**

**Fiction be with us, 645 out.**

Clean count: 4870 | Posted 04/07/13


	12. Interlude I: Other Side of Town

**Interlude I: Meanwhile, on the other side of town**

I don't know what he did, but it was definitely his fault. No, don't get me wrong; Nik's a great friend, and very sensible and intelligent, but when he has _considered all angles_, his plans usually end up encompassing everyone and everything within a ten kilometre radius of the target area. Some might say he is foolhardy, reckless, takes too much chances and so on, but then they would really be describing Anakin Skywalker, not Nik …well… Sunrider.

As a matter of fact, most of the things he does, he thinks out meticulously, but the strategy is so convoluted oftentimes that few people can discern the end goal. I for one, cannot fathom why he tried to off Jorus C'Baoth and what it would gain him. No, I can see why he might have done it – C'Baoth is not the most pleasant of characters – but what really puzzles me is why show his hand? I'm pretty sure that if he intended to remove Jorus, he would have succeeded.

Still, if his goal was to sure up security, he accomplished that rather spectacularly; the Temple Gate is shut every night, perimeter patrols have been increased noticeably, Temple Guards traverse the corridors from evening to morning and the network is undergoing security upgrades. All in all, things look like there's gonna be some Sith invasion, and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.

The irksome thing with this whole situation is not as such that I haven't been able to access the Inter-Temple Net for a few days now, and not that I will have less chance to sneak around at night, but that he didn't tell me what he was up to and that I can't call him because some hair-brained person on the Council sent him on a Sithing mission! Maybe it's another one of his _'if I tell you, I'd have to __b__ill you'_ plans, I ended up forking out good cash on occasion for being too curious, but I'd really like to know what's the deal here.

Master Windu has been tearing up the place today, I don't know what happened now, but he really has his nickers in a twist. He nearly bowled me over outside the refectory, yapping into his comm and paying very little attention to his surroundings, so much for being a Jedi Master.

Master Yaddle is a unique person, in that despite her firm approach to Jedi Training and ideals ya-da-ya-da-ya she is friendly – friendlier than most Masters I've seen. Our training has been going really slowly, about as fast as she could walk around the Temple perimeter – literally. All this mental and ideological aspects of being a Jedi are starting to get to me. I would not have minded a few lightsaber sessions, but no, I sit and do obscure things day in and day out. _It's all about control_ she keeps on saying, but I see little good in it, like my namesakes, telekinesis is beyond me.

I've known Nik for two years now, and I have discovered that he has a certain knack for learning and gaining new info, insight, whatever. He might recall the teeny-tiniest of details, historical facts, inconsistencies in a plot or even offhandedly recount some ISBN or another, he might tell you the hierarchical order of some organisation or hold his own in any debate, but he is hopeless at abstract mechanics.

It has grown more apparent over time that he could write intricate combat simulations for the Star Wars universe, calculate shield strength or whatnot, but ask him how a hyperdrive works, and he's totally stumped. Mechanics has always been my forte, in fact I do believe I possess a primitive form of Mechu-deru from what I've gathered from Master Yaddle's backwards dribble.

I guess I digress; my point was that whereas he is picking new stuff up on a daily basis I'm stuck fiddling with the thermostat controls. It gets boring, and I really want some excitement – just a little – and the Jedi aren't really big on that.

Speaking of other Jedi, they aren't really as dumb and dull as we have been lead to believe. For instance, one night when I was acting as a courier for Yaddle, I passed a conference room where five knights were playing either Sabacc or Pazaak – ask Nik which – and doing it rather openly. Youngling clans often engage in rambunctious activities and Padawans – well, they're teens with lightsabers, need I say more?

The Jedi Grapevine is, in my opinion, the best out there. Make that, there are several '_channels_' each circulating around respective groups and having different info. For instance, the laxer Padawans can share new glitches in the HoloNet proxy, the uptight ones can tell you everything about the latest news in politics, and elsewhere you can hear about Master Windu's mishap with furniture polish.

My general inactivity has served to ingratiate me with the stringent little Padawans, like Ferus I mean. Oh yes, Ferus. I've met the guy, and I don't think he likes me, but that's okay as I don't like him. It all started when Yaddle took me to the so-called 'high class' refectory where everything was disgustingly spotless. On prompting, I made my way over to and sat with my age mates.

First they ignored me, then upon me greeting them I got a frosty "hello to you to" and everyone went back to eating. When the scrutiny of Masters lifted from our table however, conversations began. Even the High Class Padawans gossip, and in my opinion, they are much worse than even the lowest of the low.

Had I been a real newbie I would not have heard a thing. But as I could not lift rocks, Yaddle was teaching me various sensory enhancement techniques, and I heard the whispered conversation on the other end of the table well enough. "You serious?" said one kid, "He's like sixteen and way too old to be a Jedi!"

"Of course I'm serious!" the other whispered back, "The Council had been getting soft; first Skywalker at nine, and now them two. Next thing we know the Code is changed and we are the Light Lords of the Jedi or something…"

Now I found that offensive, but still; Light Lords of the Jedi has a ring to it, I'll have to tell Nik about it. Maybe he can work with that.

And so it went on day to day, some people thought we had it easy with our Masters, and the blabber about how we were _being taught by Councillors_ and _ya-da-ya-da-ya didn't deserve ya-da-ya-da-ya_, others said we would need Councillors for Masters at our age, and we could have done better with Yoda and Windu, and well others – the normal ones – I heard say that it was about time the Council did something greater than changing the colour of their chair cushions.

I guess by inability to get into scrapes will serve me well; I can move freely within the uptight circles while Nik handles the dirty end. That suits me just fine … just fine.

§

It's a new day again, and I was just struck by a realization; Yaddle is going to die soon. I think it's on Mellon … Maw … Mower, oh yes, Mawan! I haven't read any of the Jedi [***] books, and I'm glad. I've heard tell they are about as painful to read as the Holiday Special is to watch. I'll have to ask Nik about that, and about our plan of dealing with her – Yaddle's – death.

It's not like another master is going to pick me up if she dies, miracles don't usually happen twice. And speaking of dead Masters, I've heard two ways that Nik's could die; on Boss Pity in a duel with Grievous, or on Flower in a duel with Cabbage Oppression. Having conflicting continuity sources sucks, but hey, that's what Nik is good at.

Speak of the Sith, I see some rusty freighter coming in; don't ask which, that's not my specialty – I just now it needs to be refitted, I think it's Nik and Gallia, and I think I have something to discuss with them, or at least, him….

* * *

**This is the shortest chapter of this story - and I feel dissappointed about that - but my excuse is that in theory this is not a 'proper' chapter and thus I have some leeway. I believe I have finally understood what 'writer's block' is, but next chapter is going to be nice and long, never fear. **

**This was just to show what was going on back at the Temple, and not much is really happening. This being my first crack at a long story, I'm trying to balance the ratio of plot points to time period. I have just discovered that writing in first person might not have been such a good idea after all.**

**You may have noticed that in this chapter several planets were missspelled; Boss Pity = Boz Pity, Flower = Florrum and so on. Well, that's to show Aeren's lack of knowledge in this area.**

**Next chapter we will be back with Nik and Adi and see where he ends up making a mess next.**

**Thanks for reading, and May the Fiction Be With You!**Clean word count: 1,380 | Updated 04/21/13


	13. Chapter 12: Two Months and Counting

**Chapter 12: Two Months and counting**

_»Left. Right. Swing down, dodge away. Jump… avoid hitting the weapons rack… roll across floor and under opponent's guard. Get soundly kicked in ribs. Dodge again, avoid burning back with lightsaber. Go in again...and again… and again…._

I have always been a practical person, and when after that Rhen Var thing it finally got to me that no, this was not a first-person quest where the health power-up was around the corner and all I had to do was collect Light Side points, I came to the conclusion that this stay would not be anything even remotely resembling a walk in the park.

One would think that upon discovering 'reality' I would be distraught about not getting home anytime soon, or ecstatic over getting to be a Jedi, but the only thing that I could summon was a Vader-esque "NOOOOOOOO!"

What all those armchair adventurists fail to recognise in their literary works is that between the Battle of Naboo and roughly in one's lifespan, there would be the Clone Wars, Galactic Civil War, Black Fleet Crisis, Almanian uprising, Yuuzhan Vong War, Dark Nest nonsense, the Second Galactic Civil War, the Abeloth nonsense and the Kesh Sith. If you are extremely lucky, you could also enjoy a front-row seat to the rise of the One Shit and the numerous wars in what the authors dub the 'Legacy Era'. That of course, is if you survive that long…. And really, surviving is what it is all about, not saving everyone from certain doom or becoming said doom, but surviving.

When we got back to the Temple, my focus immediately turned to ensuring that I could weather the coming years, and believe you me, when you actually _care_ about it, Jedi training package is **not** easy.

First and foremost is etiquette, both among Jedi and various cultures and common instances. This is one thing I'd have rather skipped, as my version is easier; you don't bite my head off, I don't take off yours. But really, that is nothing. It gets worse when it comes to languages. Instead of one or two like back home, the Jedi system calls for you to be literate in at least six and fluent in four more.

Then there is piloting. I agree with Obi-Wan Kenobi; I hate flying. Especially when we are talking Coruscant… Imagine the worst traffic jam you have ever seen, than say it is fifty layers or so and all the vehicles are moving at highway speeds. That would be a nice day on Galactic City.

Mechanics is another one of those itty-bitty things you have to know. When it comes to the standard courses, it's all good, but anything advanced to the point of hyperdrives and cloaking shields, and you've lost me. Still, I've met people who were much worse, and I guess mechanics is why Anakin is around.

_Slash. Parry. Strike. Leap back. Course regarding hitting head on cupboard. Dodge aside, release Force-Push, get flattened against wall, try again…_

And if you think _that_ is enough, there is the actual _Jedi_ package. I am lucky in that regard – well, as there is no such thing as luck, the Force must be with me – but were it not for my Knowledge Syphon, there would be no way I could actually get enough skills to fight in the Clone Wars.

As ever though, nothing is free, and sooner or later I will have to start doing this naturally or risk going of the deep end. And I certainly do not need to become a fruitcake in my teenage years.

It still astounds me, how I got into the Order at my age, but with this little venture I have learned not to question lucky breaks when they come my way. No point asking irrelevant questions when in less than six years, I'm going to be up to my ears in blaster bolts.

»The training session ended rather anticlimactically, with me having to turn off half my saberstaff to avoid slicing myself in half. Master Adi was there, I managed to dodge her first lunge, but she got me on the second. Not cool, not cool at all.

»It has only been eighty-nine standard days since I dropped in on Nanth'ri, in other words, I am as far from ready as anyone can be, but brainless politicians, the Council, and the Force, do not seem to care or consider such things.

Some overly pompous moron wants a member of the Jedi High Council to be present at the Vandelhelm Trade Conference, and the Council just _must_ accept. And since it must be such a mundane mission, they want the new guy to go, 'to get hands-on experience of what it means to be a Jedi' they tell me. Do they realise that that is so not reassuring? When the word 'mundane' crops up, the mission is anything but.

»Public perception, apparently, is a very important part of being a Jedi. Who would have thought that just plain old robes and saber were not enough? No, we must obtain an 'official' transport, and that means a Consular-class cruiser.

Luckily the one we were assigned did not have that horrendous pale-red paintjob. As with many things I have come to discover, ship colours and emblems are in reality far from what we see in Essential Guides and other illustrations.

Speaking of shoddy facts, when – it is not a matter of 'if' – I get back to Earth, I will have to remember to be very grumpy. As a result of supposedly canonical material, I have embarrassed myself on several occasions.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is **not** a wallowing moron who thinks the Sith are his fault. Anakin Skywalker is **not** a psychopathic maniac with the urge to kill every Tom, Dick, and Harry and the fear of failing everyone and everything. Mace Windu is **not** a heartless reincarnation of a dragon, and Yoda, well he's more like the Dagobah loony then the Grand Master from the _Menace_.

Aayla Secura actually **has** some decency, Quinlan Vos is rather **friendly** if a bit boisterous, Shaak Ti is more **orange** then red, and Jedi in general are jovial folks inside the Temple.

Pity I actually believed those books rather than feeling everyone's character out for myself. Were it not for the Dead Council and their miraculous ability to fiddle around with people's memories, I would have been neck-deep in bantha poodoo with all the blunders I've made.

»Getting a diplomatic ship all to ourselves seemed like a passably good idea at the time, well hyeah, that changed when we reached orbit and were attempting to get hyperspace clearance. I just don't get it, hyperspace collisions are rare, right? So, what do we need clearance for? The odds of us choosing the exact hyperspace tunnel as another ship are approximately seven-hundred and fifty-million to one. And clearance or no clearance, when two ships stop for a chat in hyperspace, well that's permanent.

The ship, _Radiant XXIII _– yep, the Jedi sure run out of ships fast, even without Anakin's help – was a good hundred and fifteen meters long, and navigating it in the tangled web of Coruscant's orbital plane was not a job for first-year fliers, so lucky me, I got to sit this one out. Sadly, I don't think I will be able to avoid that fate when we reach our destination, Master Adi says I must learn to fly, or I will have to swindle myself off and onto planets, and that just would not do for a Jedi.

»Yet another inconsistency that has resolved since my arrival is that of Jedi techniques themselves. No, I haven't started waxing philosophical, Force forbid, but I have come to one general, well, conclusion I guess. It is not particularly a _technique_ that is hard to learn, but its mastery that takes effort.

For instance, I got the basic premise behind Force-assisted gymnastics in my second or third week, but to this date I cannot seem to avoid falling on my butt more often than not. The mental patterns are flawless Master says, but I just don't have the control. And indeed, it is all about control. You can know the most advanced abilities, and still fail abysmally if you don't have control. Another good reason for not becoming a Sith; while you are busy with yellow eyes your sense of balance is shot out the airlock.

Saber drills are no better. It might be said that I have a near eidetic memory, but it's like seeing someone drive a car, and actually doing it yourself. As a matter of fact, I haven't tried that on Earth, so the motorists were safe. That's off topic, even if I have perfect recall and "understanding" of my lessons, I still have the hallmarks of a shoddy swordsman.

On the bright side, I got my Shii Cho katas down perfectly just last week, no great achievement I know, Form I being the simplest there is, but still, if feels me with a little pride. Djem So seems to be coming rather easily, with its propensity for brute Force, but all the finesse that that form possesses is still quite a ways away from me.

I tried Ataru out, but that ended up with a burned rear and bruised shins, I will endeavour to keep up a passable skill level in the form, but only enough to be hold my own against the average opponent. Master Adi being a shien practitioner, it seems as the most efficient form to learn; I can get fancy once knighted – if I get that far.

And I say that, because I feel about as far from a Jedi now as I can, sprawled over a set of crates, both of my sabers somewhere in the distance and a glowing blue blade in my face. I still have much to learn, I'm a very young Padawan learner.

»The starlines shrank back into stars and I remarked to myself that a few more trips and the sight would lose all of its splendour. Especially because a reversion from hyperspace meant that I was in charge of the controls.

Adi Gallia is one of the best pilots in the Order, I have no doubt in her ability to teach me the intricacies of flight, but that is no comfort when I am at the helm of a very big ship and have to land it without killing primarily us, and everyone else as an afterthought.

"Search the Force for guidance, it will tell you where to put your hands, don't try to find everything with your eyes. It may not be an option in some situations…."

"Yeah, and the Force may not be an option in some situations, like on Myrkr for instance…. And how do I search the Force while still flying, I cannot immerse myself, I still need consciousness for interaction with the real world…" my reply would have been considered short by anyone. It would have gotten me a thorough reprimand had the Jedi been anything like my preconceptions, actually if would've gotten a 'Kid, did you eat something last night?' from the real deal, but Master Adi gave me neither. That's what I respect and admire about her, she never gets that standoffish teaching attitude to which so many are prone. She knows me well enough to recognise that my acerbic nature is rarely directed at anyone, more like at the situation.

"Don't close your eyes… That's the last thing you want. Don't ask the Force for anything, it does not work in direct concepts. Don't focus on your need to fly, focus on one thing to the exception of all else usually ends badly, just gently centre on your goal like I showed you. Keep it before you, but don't lose sight of the periphery. That's good, now feel that urge to dial up on the engine output, do it…."

I did as instructed, choosing my next action and having an unseen Force guide my right hand to the right controls almost of its own volition. "Ah, but how do I know the Force from say, an urge to go to the bathroom?'

"Our teachings would suggest that with experience you will know, but I'm a little dubious as to how good advice that is. In hindsight many situations might have been different had a Jedi stopped to think…" I could have sworn that I heard an ethereal chuckle somewhere, and my thoughts turned to my induction into the Order. _Different indeed, different indeed…_ "But as you yourself have often pointed out," Master Adi continued, "it's always a good idea to think before acting. The Force is no excuse for lack of rationality, remember that, my young Padawan learner…."

I smirked, that was a quote I would long remember. Increasing the output to the drives when I felt confident enough, I approached the rock at a legal but increased speed and for once didn't curse when I got a hale from down below.

"Vandel Tower, Ambassadorial transport Radiant two-three requesting insertion vector and birthing at Helm Spaceport, over." My voice had adopted a clipped, what would later be dubbed the 'Imperial-stick-up-a-rear', accent and I had fallen back into the comm traffic patterns picked up from one too many episodes of _Mayday_.

"Rádiant tuu-thrii, Vándil Tuwir. Squawker cunfirmid. Clearid for Hilm Spacipurt. Cuuridinits sint. Hiv a niss day, ovir…"

"Vandel Tower, Radiant two-three. Rodger cleared for Helm Spaceport, coordinates received. Two-three out." I angled the ship for re-entry, decelerated and settled in to wait the few blind seconds in which I would see naught but my shields flaring.

Just above the cloud layer I cut off my sublights and set them to atmo output. We were far too high for the repulsors at this altitude. "You see," Master Adi congratulated, prematurely in my opinion, "You can do it…"

"Oh this is not the fun part, the fun part is actually landing…" a minute later I activated my comm. "Helm Arrival, Radiant two-three clearing eight-hundred…"

"Rádiant tuu-thrii, Vándil Tuwir, go for eight-hundrid. Final approach clear."

At the Force's guidance I keyed in the repulsors and set the Dyne 557s to wind down. Mumentum would carry us forward and the repulsors would keep us airborne. Three surprisingly stress less minutes and I was faced with the parallel parking of a one-hundred meter monster of a ship with jets only.

Somehow I managed it, though I might have scratched someone's paint, but all in all, we were down and in one piece. "I told you that you could do it!" Master Adi praised, "you see, no air traffic and you have landed perfectly…"

"Hyeah, and why did you twitch a finger several times during the landing?"

"Technicality!" was the inelegant retort, followed by the swirl of a cloak. "Come along, we don't want to be late with these corporate types…"

»Oh yes, corporate meetings, the vilest things after politics and Sith. There is more backstabbing going on here than on a bad Bothan market day. Everyone is fighting tooth and claw – sometimes literally – for every stinking decicred.

Mission material has it that Vandelhelm was discovered roughly three thousand years ago, was named after two Jos called Vandel and Helm, became a not insignificant trading hub in part due to the shipwrights and apparently hosts some of the more prestigious hotels and offices for many corporations this end of the Rimma. In essence, this is a mini Muunilist.

The Vandelhelm Biannual Trade Conference was renowned for gathering any and all enterprises worth a credit from around the surrounding sectors. The convocations tended to get a little hairy in the early stages, but the rowdy bunches were usually evicted by security and everything proceeded relatively bloodlessly. This year promised to be an exception for whatever reason.

In theory Dooku's agitations were on the other side of the galaxy, and the Hutts did not seem to be taking any major interests down this way, but nevertheless RimRoutes Trading Company, Helmwrights Inc. and Edge's Edge Enterprises felt a little paranoid this time. I don't really get why they did not tell us – the Jedi sent to protect their sorry rears – what they feared, but they insisted emphatically on Jedi babysitting the proceedings.

Master Adi, as a member of the High Council was to be present in the conference hall for 'reassurance' and in my private thoughts as an intimidation piece between the bickering factions, and I the unknown quantity of minute importance had the lovely job of being the door guard.

Note the sarcasm there, half an hour into the 'talks' I really, really, wanted to bash a few heads together, but in the interests of not inciting trans-sector pandemonium I reluctantly restrained myself.

Instead my amusement turned out to be the stacks of plasteel chairs, rows of trestle tables and the refreshment implements on the sideboards. It was fun levitating chairs and moving them around and around. It gave me exercise in control and good practice, and practice is definitely a thing of which it is good to have a lot.

»The day is at an end and I can finally retire. By now I am extremely jealous of clone troopers, stormtroopers, Mandalorians and Boba Fett. I am rather jealous of anyone who ever wore a helmet in the SWU, heck, I am even jealous of Vader.

The very simple reason is that corporate discussions would drive even Master Yoda up a wall, or maybe him first? I almost wish for something to have happened today, not that someone would have gotten hurt, but at least some excitement. Yes I know what Yoda said, "Excitement, adventure, a Jedi craves not these things" but I have an inkly little feeling that Yoda deliberately spends time in the nurseries to avoid all this nonsense.

I seal the window and door into my rather scruffy-looking quarters, put a proximity concussion mine in the anteroom, weld shut the vents and maintenance access ports with my lightsaber, disarm three dioxis canisters in the closet and the one in the fresher, cram something into an unexplained tube to avoid any friendly visits, dispose of two kouhuns in the pantry, decide that my bed isn't exactly a safe place to sleep in and find that some twit but a dart launcher into the kettle. In other words, excitement aplenty for me... No idea if someone did not like me or if these lovely rooms were for some other fellow, but I suddenly get this cliché bad feeling about this….

»I do survive the night, but I did give the night porter a scare when I put a lightsaber across his throat in the kitchens. It was not my fault! He should have announced his presence when he entered, not skulked like some kind of guilty person. I did question him a little, and it appears that the suite I was occupying was destined for a delegation from Subterral who's trip was cancelled for unspecified reasons. Good to hear I am not on anyone's hitlist, but this stinks really fishy, and the Quarren party isn't the prime cause.

Day Two is going to be such a drag…. Still if I get Master Adi on the case, maybe she will gain some insight. It is not a joking matter when a Jedi is nearly assassinated, still the attempt could have been more convincing, because I am an amateur, and amateurs don't last as long as I have. There is something to be read between the lines I think, only question is who wrote it, why dos not matter, only who.

»This time I come prepared. Commlink signals would be tracked, that I know, so I revert to an old-fashioned way of doing things, inserting a small ear bud into my left ear and hiding the cable in the nerftail of hair that has begun to grow out. With hood raised I am the very image of an aloof Jedi, inscrutable features hidden in the shadows of my cowl and hands folded into opposite sleaves.

That's at least the image people see when they bother to look my way. A very wise man once said – not sure, it might have been me – that lying outright is the easiest way to get caught, let a person's mind create their own lie from what they see, less effort for you. As I the silent sentinel stand in the entrance alcove, motionless to the casual eye, no-one knows that the cable behind my ear runs into a datapad that can either intercept comm waves or play that nice new album from Corellia. And certainly no-one knows that concealed within my sleeves, fingers twitching in rhythm with a synthesised "Duel of the Fates" melody, twitching and rolling a set of marbles beneath the conference table.

Indistinctly and half unconsciously I begin to mumble the lyrics, _"…Nyohah Keelah Korah Rahtahmah, Syadho Keelah Korah Rahtahmah, Korah Daanyah Korah, Rahtahmah…."_

* * *

**And that's chapter 12 - 13 - 12.  
**

**The thing with self-inserts is to avoid doing the Mary-Sue thing, not sure what that is called for guys, but you get the picture.**

**It takes a lot of thought to explain how the main protagonist got all his fancy powers and how being a noob he did not get his shebs shot off.**

**That's the part I am having problems with; I am not sure if Padawan Sunrider is realistic in his endeavours. Still I tried to emphasis his falibility and need to learn like everyone else. That last is actually what accounts for the lack of much action, he needs to learn how to fight before he can actually do anything _real_. When he raided Thorgo's place in chapter 8, he was grumpy, using a blaster not a lightsaber, and the thugs were pathetic, and Rhen Var was just a manifistation of the Force. **

**With two months of extensive knowlege transfers under his belt, next chapter is going to be some good ol' fashion _Jedi Business_ that should lead to some not insignificant developments for our young friend.  
**

**Expect to see a familiar rainy planet to show up in the near future, and keep in mind that the more Sunrider learns, the more he can actually do, and unlike airheaded fans, his life mission is not to be the Galaxy's sole savior.**

**I have Book Two sort-of outlined, and without going overboard here, I foresee some classic Star Wars-storytelling in the latter parts of this story and Book Two. And by classic I mean big ships, bigger explosions and amputated limbs all across the Galaxy.**

**May the Fiction Be With You Folks!**

Clean word count: 3,501 | Posted May the 14th, 1345 hours GMT


	14. Chapter 13: A Storm to Be

**Chapter 13: A Storm to Come  
**

I must say, this whole idea of running overriding noise to block out in Jar Jar's words the "Dellow felegates" is a good one. I will have to keep a pair of earbuds and a datapad on me in case the Force decides to through a Senate meeting at me next, which, knowing the Force and my luck – lack thereof – will happen more than once in the extremely near future.

Don't get me wrong, I've always deemed myself second only to Obi-Wan Kenobi in garbled official talk – sorry, negotiations – but it's one thing when something _actually depends_ on you, and quite another when you have to just stay there and listen. Considering they are a bunch of morons anyway. I guess that characterisation isn't quite accurate; after all, males aren't the only ones present. Would a female moron be a moroness or a moronette?

That's beside the point I think, still if I meet C-3PO I'll have to ask him. Then again, if I do he will probably give me an hour's lecture on how the term 'moron' is considered uncouth in polite company. As iconic as Goldenrod was to the Saga, he is not the droid you are looking for in matters of companionship. Now HK would be a different story, I would probably feed him a laundry list of meatbags to terminate by the day. I might _accidentally_ eliminate the entire Senate, Judicial Forces, half the Navy, the Intelligence division and a bunch of planetary officials, and that would not do at all, would it?

The last track conveniently stopped playing as matters seemed to be winding down at the table. Using rather fine telekinesis – a skill I was paradoxically apt in – I moved the datapad from under my muffling attire and oriented its directional mic at the main table.

"Á wilcum prupusil, frind Jidi. Wi sháll indiid adjourn fur a riciss. The cumfirrince will risume in tuu huuirs, will it bi acciptibl?"

I sighed in relief as Master Adi nodded in assent and after a pointlessly gracious bow made her way out of the room as fast and politely as she could manage. I followed very soon after, I had no more wish to hang around that place than absolutely necessary. And besides, I was having a bad feeling again, something close by, but elusive.

* * *

We met up on our respective ways to the giant food court situated to the meeting chamber's west. The whole summit complex resembled, you guessed it, the letters herf and vev arranged to form a three-pronged fork running west-to-east with the central prong not reaching the crook of the other too. Instead of using this space for extra guard stations or other useful facilities, the architects did something ridiculous; they made a roofed courtyard. The trailing end of the fork was barricaded with ten-meter thick transparisteel (don't show me the bill for that one, please) reinforced with a transparent – hence expensive – deflector shield. Several 'open air' stalls stood scattered between the central building and the ones around it and an extravagant eating area was constructed where the vev diverged.

It would have been an assassin's dream come true, and a security detail's worst nightmare, but strangely the participants of the summit did not demand our protection in this vast open space. I wasn't complaining; less work for me, and besides, open and crowded areas are the best for covert surveillance. With that in mind Master and I took a small table perched in a convenient corner which could not be snuck up on and commanded the best view of the area. Setting down our trays – and running a bunch of toxin tests while we were at it – we started up a quiet conversation of innocuous appearance.

"How was your night, Padawan?" she asked me, like any _oblivious_ Master or parent would.

"Not too bad, I might have had a run-in with some creepy-crawlies and there was some weird stink, but otherwise it was a nice relaxing sleep." I chewed on the local equivalent of a fat-as-a-Hutt burger – the only edible food around, much to my consternation – and after a moment of thought added, "Oh yes, there might have been a red laser tracking around the room, but who knows, it might have been those brats out in the street. They have no respect for hard-working folks. What about you Master? Did you enjoy not getting called to some emergency or another in the middle of the night?"

Sometimes, even in the midst of dreary nonsense, I love my job as a Jedi. The Brown-Robed Society of (dis)reputable Negotiators is a wondrous body to be a part of. No verbal code is ever required when the person you are communicating with can pick up on your _meaning_ while sounding perfectly normal. Jedi would make terrifying Black Ops units, I shudder to think….

"Oh no, there is no rest for the wise. I was awake for a good portion of last night contemplating the peculiar patterns of wiring in my quarters…" Translation: nearly got electrocuted. Well, at least I was not the only unlucky fellow.

"And what conclusion did you reach, do enlighten me…" I really could not resist a little cheekiness, "was there a _bug_ in the system? I hear there are some truly terrifying mites on **Vandal**-helm. Or was it that arachnid that hit the markets recently?"

"I found the Rae Roach truly a topic of interest. Maybe we should visit for a guided tour sometime, I'm sure Qui-Gon would have found them very interesting." Translation: electronic virus originating from Abregado Rae, investigation called for, but the Trade Federation had a good chance of being involved.

"I'm sure he would, but his Padawan would certainly not. Between the pathetic life forms, short negotiations and _bigger fish_ he just about had it in his last assignment." I sat tapping my chin for a moment and then continued on a totally different topic. "I really hope we can **get back to the ship** soon, the **Arrgaw Akks are set for a definite win **in the shockball match tonight. But they should really **keep an eye on the Epica**, they have **a lot going for them** too."

Just as I felt a mental frown appear in Master's Force Presence, I felt a burst of panic somewhere in the basement level, things were going to get hairy after all.

* * *

"I think it's the Epica!" I judged that a crisis was no time for code talk so throwing caution to the wind I yelled my suspicions over my shoulder and pelted down the closed corridor.

"Good call, but where do you think you are going?" Adi demanded in that stern, _messing is alright at times, but this is not one of them_ tone. I knew that tone all too well from firsthand experience.

"Well, where do you think? The conference hall!"

"No!" the word rang with finality, "You are not, repeat, are **not **engaging in **any** action today. You are not getting yourself killed while you are my Padawan, do you get that? Is that clear?"

"Crystal!" was the only response I could muster; Adi was right I could not enter an extremely hostile situation with my skill level. Good against remotes is one thing, good against the living is something else. And besides, the Epicans were bound to mean business, they would not go in unprepared for Jedi, and though I highly doubted the presence of ysalamiri, I strongly suspected flechette launchers and other nasties.

As if in confirmation of my inward musings Master Adi addressed me, though gentler than before, "You'll have your day to go in saber a' swinging, relax, patience, you'll get there…" then after a nod from me she continued, "Now go to the South Security Tower and act as a spotter for me, got that?"

I nodded in affirmation, said the obligatory "May the Force Be With you Master…" and pelted off down the nearest service corridor. This would be the next best thing to actually being there.

* * *

I was not very good at Force Speed, whereas a normal human could cover a hundred meters in under ten seconds, a trained Jedi could do it in one point three, and exceptional ones (green trolls included) could go as fast as a tenth of a second, I could only go as seven seconds, six point eight at most.

Still, it was a good little clip and I reached the command centre in a very short period of time, breaking proved a slight problem however. Once I pealed myself off the wall that absolutely had **no** business being where it was, I was faced with a rather peeved guard, a guard with a stun baton in hand.

"Vaht do you phink y're doing 'ere, bratlin'?" His accent was not what I had come to associate with the general populous of Vandelhelm, indeed being reminiscent of the rough and tumble sneering growl spoken in the Hutt regions of the Outer Rim. His look was no better, all done up in tattoos and piercings, a leather jerkin and pants that reached half way down his shins. Besides the stun baton, he was also armed with a cutlass-like vibroblade and a really mean-looking SoroSuub blaster the designation of which was probably lost among all the modifications. In short, I did not want to fight him.

"Jedi business. Some twit decided to start shooting downstairs, this post was closest so I came to monitor the situation…"

"Ve don't vahnt no Jedi hre, skid off!" Very friendly, if Master Adi wanted me to keep out of trouble, this was not the place to send me. Not by a long shot.

"I have urgent business," I began in that Obi-Wan tone, bringing my hand up in the gesture for Force Compulsion, and doing my best to remember my lessons in said area, "You will let me enter."

The stun baton lifted to passive attack position and a hiss escaped my _buddy's_ mouth. Either Aurek; he was not weak-minded, or besh; I was just terrible at Force Pursuade. Bet you ten creds it was the latter

Looks like I'd have to go for the backup plan, and if I have to do that, why not do it with some cheek. "You will stand down and let me pass…" I intoned, this time waving my lightsaber in the same gesture. While Friend Ugly was busy grinding brain cells to figure it that was a threat, joke or insult, my right hand released a Force push aimed at his stomach.

Sadly my aim is terrible as I have so often proclaimed. This situation gives a whole new perspective to the phrase "hit below the belt". Lucky for him, that blast wasn't really strong. Unfortunately I am beginning to sense extreme murderous intent. I guess I should avoid telekinetic attacks until I am more proficient.

Before I can join the Glowing Blue Club on a premium subscription, I whip out my by now customary blaster pistol, flick the mode to stun, and pump three shots into him. Then after seeing him twitch, I let loose with to more for comfort.

* * *

The Security centre is like any command post in the SWU, save for the fact that the screens are blue, not green like the TCW and RotS would have us believe. The room is circular, with control panels set around the perimeter and four rolling chairs set up for the monitoring team. Beats me why there's no-one inside, but good fortune should not be questioned unless it's too good, and this is certainly not.

"Bantha brains…" I hiss under my breathe as I enter the day's date into the password box and get instant admin access, one would have thought that a conference such as this would have a slightly higher security level. I don't see that well, but that really doesn't matter when you have the Force, Force Sight being the first technique I fully mastered to its fullest expanse. A tap or two of my fingers and I have the security feeds projected onto the wall monitors.

Pulling the trusty hush-98 comlink from its sleeve pouch – I chose to forgo standard dress accessories and sew – yes I know how to do that – concealed pockets into sleeves and wherever I could get them. The -98 wasn't by far the fanciest device out there, in fact it was like having an old monochrome, green-scaled, button-using cell while the world was up to smartphone standards, but I, and most other Jedi, liked it precisely because it didn't have any of the tutes and bells.

"Master, do you read?" I queried, opening a secure channel and watching Master Adi negotiate an unresponsive door with her lightsaber on one of the holocam feeds.

"Loud and mostly clear, did you get into position?"

"If I say that there is a dozen five-o-one-zee police droids behind that door, would that answer your question?" Some might consider my answer the peak of insolence, and they would be right under normal circumstances, but Master Adi and I, over the two months we had known each other, had come to a certain level of comradeship where banter was freely exchanged and formalities were ditched entirely, what good did they do anyway?

"Thanks for the heads up, do you know if they are hostile?"

"Judging by the guns aimed at the door, I'd say they are…"

"Oh, okay then…" Master Adi's lightsaber completed the circle which with a pulse of the Force she sent flying into the two zeds in front of the doors. I will never guess why defenders think it a good idea to take positions just in front of the stinking door! Then again, it's them and not me, so I'm not complaining – a perfect motto for a happy life in the GFFA.

Meanwhile, for indeed my thoughts took a considerable ten seconds of time, Master Adi came in saber a' swinging, slicing and dicing, chopping and lopping, dismembering and disassembling the other eight zeds in the room. They managed a puny couple of shots out of their rifles which were summarily intercepted and redirected to more useful targets and all too soon the mess was over. I whistled in awe; I could not wait until the day I could actually do that on a regular basis.

The next two chambers were remarkably void of hostile units, unless a house rat can be counted among that number, and I was rather beginning to nod off when a side door outside the camera's view slid open and a handful of annoying individuals showed up.

"_Master Jedi! What is the meaning of this!"_ sometimes I get this feeling that the Sith aren't half bad of an option; they don't have to put up with snotty bureaucrats and morons like the Jedi are obliged to. I'll have to set up a pros/cons table and re-evaluate my alignment… No just kidding! I'm not trading my musty brown robe or gleaming chrome saber for … anything really.

The second member of the Quarren party – for that was whom they were – was more courteous. _"Master Jedi, are you aware of the particulars of the situation? _

Master Adi sighed resignedly and nodded, "Yes delegate Ixx, I am aware," came the expected world-weary reply, "Now if you would not mind settling in a safe room, I shall investigate the situation…."

She was turning away when the Moron-Quarren – that almost rhymes – decided to let out a petulant refusal; _"No! We are NOT hiding like a pair of squid! Do you hear me Jedi! The conference must continue! To the hall Ixx!"_

Some people are just too idiotic to deal with. Master Adi recognised that just fine, so without any further complaints she pulled out her comlink and keyed for me, "Padawan, how does the route to the ConfCen look?"

"Mostly littered with building security and personal details," I supplied after only a moment, "I recommend casual Force." _Casual Force_, just like _Aggressive Negotiations_ was one of those terms arising in specific teaching lines, in Master Adi's it meant literally; get through without lethal force or appendage removal. You could slam people into walls, knock them unconscious, give them non-serious wounds, just anything to get through that did not require effort, hence the term 'casual'. In my – perhaps warped – vision of the Jedi, this was the best approach.

* * *

Master seemed to have things well in hand, so I felt a fresher break was in order. Then, a minute turned into eight, after which I felt it necessary to indulge in a coffee break – after all, I was 'working hard' for the 'safety and security of the Galactic Society'. On those cheery thoughts I poured myself another cup of rich black caf, drank half of it and considered reading the Zhellday Times when I had remembered what I was actually doing there.

Unhurriedly I sauntered over to the camera control station and put in a system scan for Master's parameters. At least this part of the software was doing what it was supposed to and the wall monitors jumped to various views of the ConfCen – Conference Centre – in which ensued utter pandemonium.

It was like Parliament House on a bad day, and I bring an Earth analogy into this simply for absence of floating pods. The Quarren were quarrelling with the RimRoutes fellas, the unionists were being obstinate, and the Epicans were obviously fanning the flames to anyone watching. How Master could stand the ruckus was beyond me, maybe Councillors had a nifty trick for blocking out sound? Whatever the case, Adi was as far away from the action as she could get, and obviously not happy. A zoom-in revealed her on-hand twitching constantly near her lightsaber. Poor Master, poor Master….

"Any news?" I probed as casually as I could, were I in Master's position now I would be ready to bite off heads.

"See for yourself… it's like a committee on proper changing of household glowbulbs, from the absence of an agenda to the loss of all distinctions of sentience."

"I meant real news, not what I already know. And the fact that the Javin delegation totally lacks a spine is part of the latter, not the former."

"Well between yelling at each other and accusing everyone of treachery, they are _'secretly'_ giving orders to their guard contingents who are being overrun by slightly more competent ruffians. Blast doors have been sealed, and me getting outside will be a problem of sorts. If I'm right, the battle is likely to be heading your way in the near future…."

"Wow, too late there Master. I'd say the action has just about reached me, and I have a bad feeling that I shall get involved whether I want to or not. "

"Don't engage**.** I am not going to be able to assist you whatsoever. Do not engage."

"Understood, I'll do my best, but I am not sure how long I can hold them from here…" That was true in a way; even if I was extremely good with computers, I was by no means a prodigy, and a doubly unfamiliar system was not likely to cooperate according to Murphy's Law.

While my fingers tapped out commands to divert power, kill lights, lock doors and enable countermeasures, a somewhy detached part of my incessant brain chose to wonder, _would it still be Murphy's Law here? Malak's Law? He sure was on the wrong end of it long enough_. My musings were brought to a sort of halt when my comm chimed,

"…I hope it was you who cut the lights, and that you had a good reason for it…." On certain occasions it kept on occurring to me, and this was one of them; I was extremely lucky to end up with Master Gallia as my teacher, as she understood the tangled mess that was my earlier education, and structured her approach more along the lines of comrades and equals – though I was a good ways of being one – instead of the stick-up-an-exhaust-port High School I had endured. At times I actually thanked Qui-Gon's twisted mind for giving me a vacation in the GFFA, and this was one of those times.

"Yes to both, I managed to hold my guests for a while, but I think I will have to venture out eventually, I am cornered here. And besides… what the Sith?"

Before Master could inquire further, a hologram burst to life in the middle of the ConfCen, clearly visible on my monitors as well.

"_You will cease this racket! We are the—"_ here the audio mysteriously flickered before resuming, _"…and you should be aware that this conference will no longer be tolerated! The Jedi's ship has been destroyed! Your protection is now void! We have already captured one of these mythical warriors and our units are moving on the second's location even now! The—"_

"Padawan?" came the anxious demand over the link in my hand. It buoys my spirit to know that even after two months, Master Adi cares what's up with her impetuous, annoying, and sarcastic Padawan. It's her duty, but still…

"That guy is full of himself, my senses aren't that attuned but I sense no Jedi anywhere near here except us, and we don't count."

A sigh of relief came in reply, "Not to worry then…"

"Actually," I began, my stomach sinking really, really low. "I just accessed the cam feeds to the room they are using, and Houston, we have a problem."

The obligatory "What?" came rather muffled to my ears as I held the comlink with my armpit while improvising a new door with a lightsaber. Whether the question was regarding my choice of words – a trait I must rectify soon – or more likely the situation, I had no time to ponder.

"You know how I promised to stay out of trouble Master?" My tone was far too casual for the situation, especially considering the baradium that was the source of the problem, "Well yeah, sorry for not keeping that promise. I'll do the laundry when you get me out of the med-centre…"

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**No plot survives first-contact with the paper - in this case, first contact with the Word Document. Initially I was going to have some action here on part of Nik, but when the word count reached 2700, I knew that to prolong this would just be like dragging the cat from beneath the couch by its tail. **

**Still, this gives me more opportunities for next chapter, far more than what I would have gotten if I combined the background with the action all in one.**

**The world of writing is a nebulous one as I am discovering with every page. No plot stays the same for too long and I must learn the folly of planning ahead.**

**Hope you have enjoyed this chapter, and my thanks to the people who have followed this story, and who have reviewd my recent poetry posts. You are welcome to PM me with any concerns you might have of course.**

Clean word Count: 3,700 | Posted 26/5/13 1407 hours GMT


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